Nick-Justin 2 - beach 2

It took Nick a long, confused minute before he pinpointed what felt wrong about the backstage area. Chris and JC weren't playing 'chicken' on their scooters, Joey wasn't picking Justin up and swinging him around, Lance wasn't tossing little firecrackers under peoples' feet. Everyone was clearly doing their jobs, and doing them well and efficiently, and the Justified backstage ran like a machine. Christina's people were all sitting off by the edge, chainsmoking and out of the way, rolling their eyes. Nick had a sudden sharp twinge of nostalgia for the old days, but shook it off as he followed what had to be the dressing-room corridor back behind the stage.

"Hey, Justin?" he called out ahead of him, peeking around corners. "Justin? Are you here already? Where are you, man? You can't be that far ahead..."

"Mr. Carter?" It was a guy, not security, wearing a headset, gesturing to him. "Follow me, I'm going to take you to Mr. Timberlake. His dressing room is behind the others. Security reasons." He led the way without checking to see if Nick was following, and Nick shook his head, but trailed after. It was only one turn away, but he probably wouldn't have found it alone.

"Hey, Nick." Justin tossed a distracted smile in his direction, as techs stripped him of his mic and pack and assorted other gadgets.

"Justin," said Nick, feeling a sliver of relief that he hadn't been expecting, at seeing him. He shoved his hands in his pockets awkwardly. "Hey, man. Great show. I got to see most of it, even. You feeling good?"

"Not too bad," Justin nodded at the tech, who stepped away and tossed him a towel. Justin was dripping, but still humming with energy and electricity and was doing a terrible job of standing still. "Tired." He grinned at Nick. "Sleeping makes me tired, Carter, y'see what you're doing to me, here? I almost fell asleep during Senorita." He turned aside again. "Those backup mics went out again in Right For Me. I wanna complete check done before soundcheck tomorrow, and I'm testing 'em myself, you got that?"

Nick made a face, but he didn't argue with it. *That* was something he would have done himself, if something had fucked up during one of his shows. "Right, sure, it's my fault you almost fell asleep during one of the dullest--" He grinned and didn't finish the sentence, though. Let Justin think it was a joke.

Justin reached out and slapped his arm, playfully. "Ha fucking ha, funnyboy." He was watching Nick's face closely now, scrubbing the towel over his head and behind his neck. "You liked the show, huh? Thought it was all right?" He snapped the towel at Nick's hip. "Not a crap performance?"

"Not a crap performance," Nick laughed. "Thanks to my timely intervention, of course. Really great show, the fans went wild. They love them some Timberlake. But then again... don't we all?"

Justin shrugged a little, turning to the mirror and wiping his face carefully. "If it's not crap, I'm happy," he said, meeting Nick's eyes in the mirror. "An' the fans are happy, that's the big thing. I wanna give 'em a great show." He shrugged out of his undershirt, ran the towel down his body, and yanked on a t-shirt. "You coming to the club tonight, Carter?"

"If I'm invited, I am," said Nick with an easy shrug. It wasn't like he was planning on being anywhere else. It wasn't like he even really had any other *options*, other than spending it alone. "Sounds like it would probably be a good time. You think I'm dressed okay?"

"You're fine," Justin said, eyes taking him in head to toe. "You look great, no worries, it's just some local club who sponsored some show ticket giveaway. I don't know. You're definitely invited though, shit. They're getting two for the price of one." He tucked the t-shirt into the lowslung thick belt holding up his baggy jeans, and pulled a knit hat onto his head. "No point showering, since I'm just gonna be dancing more. Let's roll."

Nick almost sniffed at him, then thought better of it, looking at the people still busy around them. "Everything here is taken care of them?" he said. There were certainly enough people there to do it. "Well, okay then. Good to go."

"I'm scheduled at the club right after the show, to catch the over-18 concert spillout," Justin said dryly. "I know you think I'm a freak, but I don't actually come back out and disassemble my own stage or anything. I DO have a tour manager, y'know, and I'm paying a lot of people to make sure this tour runs right."

"Right, so you let them do their jobs," said Nick significantly, though he didn't make a bigger deal of it than that. In fact, he was flushing a little bit, remembering the work he did on his own tour, helping with the band and everything. But then, that was mostly his choice. "I guess if you're on a schedule, then, we'd better haul ass."

"You bet." Justin slapped his ass on the way by, grinning as he jogged past on his way to the door. "Let's go dancing, Carter. Shit, when was the last time we clubbed together? Couple years ago in Orlando, right, that thing after the thing? They've gotta case of Cristal with our name on it waiting in VIP, I'd hate for it to get warm. Shake some ass, boy."

"Like they'll even notice I'm there, with Timberlake in the room," Nick teased, following him out. "I'm just, like, your extra bodyguard, or something. Your big, blond appendage."

Justin rolled his eyes at Nick, then at the door, took a deep breath and tugged the hat low over his eyes, raised the hood on the sweatshirt he was wearing. He slumped his shoulders, losing a couple of inches of hight, and his face fell into stillness. He looked like another person entirely. "It's how I get in and out of places," he said softly. "And get away. But you, man. You always look like a star. Not an appendage at all, no one could make that mistake." With his hands shoved deep into his pockets, Justin just looked like a tired, too-thin guy who needed a shave.

And Nick really, really just wanted to pick him up and take him back to the hotel room and make him sleep some more, but he knew, this time, that wasn't an option. There were some things Justin *did* need to do. But not late, not if Nick had anything to do with it. "It didn't occur to me that I might need to hide here," Nick admitted. He hadn't really thought past the Justin part of it; he certainly hadn't had any problems on the way to the hotel.

Justin shrugged again, leading the way through the door. "Probably no one expected to see you here," he pointed out, strolling out the back door of the arena like he was any other guy. The group of fans at the entrance glanced at them, then away, disinterested. "You'll probably need more security once people figure out you're here. I'm sure you remember Lou's lecture on the deadly teenaged girls and what they can do to you if they get ahold of you."

"Yes, but I was young and cute, then," Nick reminded him, keeping his voice low. Years ago now, years since he had first gone through that. Not that he didn't still have people screaming his name, but their voices weren't quite so piercing, their hands not so grabby. He could actually have conversations with a lot of them. "Probably won't be so much of a problem, 'cept I might give *you* away."

"We'll see," Justin said noncomittally, and strolled past the barricade and out like it was no trouble at all. Nick saw a large someone--he'd seen him before with Jim--double-take at seeing them, then speak urgently into a walkie-talkie, face pale. He fell in behind them, and Justin sighed. "Got caught," he said sadly. "Fuck. Might as well wait for the limo, now."

"Probably for the best," Nick said quietly. "Don't you feel better with someone around? Safer? Since you're so, like, recognizable now. More than ever."

"Who wants safe?" The crazy grin that had given Nick shivers on a california beach was back, but only for a second before it faded into a normal smile. "Nah, you're right. It'd be fuckin' embarrassing to end my career torn to bits by rabid teen girls. I wonder what my kidney would bring on E Bay?" He waited without protest as the guard, looking furious, flagged down their limousine and stood between them and the crowd, which was starting to take interest.

"Sorry I busted you, then," Nick apologized, not sorry at all. Something just wasn't... right, about Justin, right now. And he felt a lot better having backup, until he had Justin back in the bedroom where he was comfortable with him. "Next time."

"Yeah." Justin perked up visibly at the thought, and scrambled into the limo with only one glare from the guard. "Don't worry about it," he insisted, from inside. "I need both my kidneys, with how much I'm drinking tonight, and I'm not gonna lose 'em to a glitter mob. Anyway, I don't think I have cab fare on me." He turned out his pockets, showing them empty, and shrugged at Nick. "I'm helpless, I tell you."

Nick had cash, he'd gotten some at the airport, but Justin didn't need to know that. "That's why you need me," he said simply, and gave Justin a smile. "I much prefer you with all your body parts, yes. I think it's part of my job as, uh, BJ Administrator to make sure all the parts stay attached."

"And here I thought it was in the job description to try to suck one part, at least, right off." Justin leered at him ludicrously, then cracked himself up as Nick slammed the door hastily behind himself. "Dude, your face. I'm just playin' with you." Justin kicked his feet up on the seat across from himself. "I"m telling you, you're gonna get spotted way before me. For one thing, people know Backstreet over here. For another thing, you've got much nicer hair."

"That's true," said Nick, touching his hair as he grinned at him. "But I can't help it if I'm beautiful. I honestly... I wasn't thinking so much when I came over here, I just sorta came. I guess I should've given it a *little* more thought, at least."

Justin shruggeed. "I've got security to spare, y'know. There's no need to worry about it." He looked at Nick curiously. "You just packed up and left, and just...came? Why? I mean, it's not like I don't appreciate having someone around to make out with and whatever, but it's not like if you didn't come today you'd miss your chance. I'm gonna be on tour for months, and I'd've thought you'd be pretty sick of touring by now."

"Wanted to see you," said Nick, shrugging at him. "I can be spontaneous sometimes. I wasn't doing anything I couldn't reschedule quickly. So yeah, I just picked up and came, just like that. Don't let me forget to make some phone calls tomorrow, though. After the morning BJ administration of course."

Justin chuckled. "You'll have to get up mighty early, if there's gonna be time for BJ administration. Spontaneous or not, it's pretty tightly scheduled time. I usually hit the gym by six." He peered out the windows. "I think you can probably go back to sleep after. Seems like something I'd like to try, get the day started right." He grinned sideways at Nick.

Nick chuckled and shook his head. "I'll tell you right now," he admitted. "You won't be seeing me in the gym with you at 6 am. Or probably ever. If you see me making faces at myself in the mirror while naked, though, you can gently suggest that I consider it." He yawned broadly and placed his arm over Justin's shoulders. "I would get up long enough for the BJ, though. That would make it worth my while."

"You're gonna blow me, then turn over and go back to sleep?" Justin raised an eyebrow. "Man. I'm just not that goodly when I'm just awake. I'd be cranky, an' probably bite." He snickered at Nick's shudder. "Don't worry. I'm harmless once I've had my coffee and my run."

Nick sighed dramatically. "I'm going to have to change my slacker schedule in order to keep up with you," he complained. "If I die, it's entirely your fault, you know. My, like, hearts going to give out or something. I'm not in that kind of shape right now. We'll have to take frequent BJ breaks or something. I'll make sure to work it into your schedule, of course."

"You do that." Justin leaned into his side a little. "And no dying, you hear? For one thing, I couldn't handle the police investigation, it'd be all Law and Order and shit. Anyway, you try to keep up with me and you'll be in that kind of shape soon enough." He jabbed Nick lightly with an elbow. "I like the shape you're in, though. Reminds me of Joey, an' he gives--gave--the best hugs. Me, I'm all bones."

"You *are* all bones," said Nick, pinching him lightly in return. As much as there was anything there to pinch. And tried not to feel sad about Justin talking about JOey in the past tense. "Good thing I'll be getting some more nutrition into you soon. And geez, man, I thought touring shape was tough when *I* was the one touring. But don't worry, if I die I'll leave a note behind saying the s-e-x was worth it, so you won't get in any trouble." As if the bodyguards couldn't spell.

Justin rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh yeah, I'm sure that'll help. Not only a death, but a dramatic note implying sexual favors. Just what this tour needs." He moved away from Nick's pinching fingers. "It's different when you do everything yourself. Used to be I could take a break halfway through the show, when Joey was doin' his thing or Lance or whatever. Now it's just go go go, and I'm the only one up there." He shrugged. "I love it, but it's hard."

"I know it is," Nick said, and that was one area where he could really sympathise. "I know what that's like. But that's, like, *why* you need to rest up beforehand. And stuff. It's worth it, when you're on stage and you can give everything to the people watching. Yeah. I know what that's like, Justin." And he even missed it, a little, now that the toured was finished. He should look into booking a few dates here and there, just to keep his hand in.

"I'm also the only one around to give interviews and make appearances and keep things running," Justin pointed out dryly. "I mean, there's Chris, but she's got her own stuff to handle. It's all right, though. Just a couple months before it's all over, and I know the show's good, and that's what matters." He leaned his shoulder into Nick's side again. "I still don't know how you stayed so mellow on tour. Can't figure it out, man."

"Well, I've been *trying* to tell you," said Nick, "but you, like, don't wanna hear it or something. I know the tour is your baby, man, and I totally get that, but..." It was probably pretty futile starting this up all over again, though. So he just held Justin close. "Interviews and appearances, yeah, I get that. But keeping things running? Besides a few checks, that's someone else's job, in my world."

"I don't think I could do that," Justin said very seriously. "If I don't know, personally, that everything's working and on and going okay, I just flip out and that's even worse." He tipped his head, resigned. "This tour IS my baby, it's my big important thing, and my name's attached, just me. It's gotta be perfect. And I'm in good shape, I'll survive the tour."

"Yup, you will," said Nick confidently. Justin would survive the tour, because Nick was there to watch his back. "But hey, you wanted to know how I stayed so mellow and cheerful during my tour and, well, that's it right there. Less organization of it, maybe a little more manual labour, and it all worked out good, I think. Just really focused on the performance and doing what I loved and letting go for the crowd and it was good."

"The show was good," Justin agreed. "It was more...It was a rock show, kinda loose and unstructured, which was perfect for you. I've got seven wardrobe changes and three different sets of dancers to coordinate. It's a different kinda thing." He peered out the window again as the limo drew to a stop, and pushed away from Nick's arm. "We're here. Time to go be seen."

Nick lifted an eyebrow at him, catching an implied value judgment in there. "Whatever, Justin," he sighed, and straightened his outfit. He wondered if Justin would even talk to him when they were inside, since he was "being seen" and being seen didn't include being seen with a performer he didn't think much of. It wasn't like Justin listened to him at all. "I'm looking forward to having a drink."

"Me too," Justin agreed fervently, waiting for the impassive bodyguard to open the door, after checking it carefully. The wall of screams outside hit Justin right in the face, and he flinched back a little, before straightening and plastering a big cheesy grin on his face. Nick could see him take a deep breath before he ducked out the door, hand reaching back for Nick even as he took the first step. He pulled Nick up to his side and dropped his hand, but stayed shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

Nick was on now, too, clearly displayed for the public outside the club. He wished he'd dressed up a little more, but he looked fine, Justin said he looked fine. And that counted for something, he figured. He smiled and signed autographs and told people he'd just come to visit his friend on tour and have some fun, all the while keeping sight of Justin out of the corner of his eye, at the very least. Flashbulbs went off and he figured this was probably going to get back to Joey pretty quickly. He expected a call in the morning.

Justin was moving his way towards the door, neatly twisting away from grabbing hands, keeping that smile on his face even when a bodyguard had to get between him and someone trying to get over the rope. "Thanks for coming out," he shouted to the crowd, waving both arms and shining like a candle. They roared in answer, and then Justin was at Nick's side, tugging on his arm and trotting to the door. Once inside, he slumped against the wall, pale but grinning hugely. He was rubbing absently at one hand with the other. and Nick could see scratches.

It was through sheer willpower that Nick didn't snatch at that hand. Instead, he managed to take it slowly, make sure Justin was okay. And not just physically. He seemed good, though. Energized. In a way that nothing else seemed to do for him. Still, it struck Nick as odd. Odd like everything about Justin seemed to be odd these days.

"That's a hell of a crowd," he said, as softly as he could and still be heard.

"It's *great*," Justin crowed. "They've been publicizing this shit out of this club, I guess, what with the concert tickets and then door passes inside, since I'm scheduled to show up here. Trace's supposed to be here already, getting VIP set up and ready to go. Maybe we should just stay on the floor, though, tonight. Get right up close and personal." His eyes were glittering-bright and his cheeks were flushed, and he hadn't stopped smiling. He tugged at his hand impatiently. "Leggo, it's fine. Let me buy you a drink!"

"You won't have any skin *left* if we stay on the floor, Justin," said Nick, looking back over his shoulder and around. He would stay on the floor if he could, though. He loved it best. "They all want a piece of you, and you pretty much need to keep all your pieces to yourself. I'll take that drink, though. Just lead the way."

"I got pieces of me to spread around," Justin boasted, leading the way down the long hallway towards the music, flanked front and back by a pair of guards. "We're staying on the floor, once we get through a couple bottles and see what's what." Nick was pretty sure he saw one of the guards cringe, but he couldn't be positive. "There'll be plenty to drink, I think I'm gonna open up the bar. Drinks on me and EVERYBODY dances!" He shimmied his hips lewdly as he slid through the door.

Nick closed his eyes for a minute and cringed, too. He loved a night out, but this wasn't really his thing, and for Justin a night on the floor was practically a suicide mission. He was probably going to spend more time looking out for Justin than enjoying himself. He wasn't even sure if he was going to get drunk, when usually that was a complete no-brainer. And on top of all that, in a crowd like this there would be no fringe benefits to it all. "All right then," he said, to no one but himself. "Let's do this."

The bodyguard nearest him must have heard, because he threw him a glance that was equal parts sympathy and self-pity. Justin, tucked neatly between two huge guards, was making a beeline across the half-empty club to the VIP area, where he broke free with an impatient shake of his shoulders and looked around for Nick.

"Nick! C'mon, man!" Justin held up the bottle of champagne with an eager smile on his face. The music wasn't intense yet, but Justin was already moving to it. "Get up here, have a drink!"

"Coming, coming," said Nick, and he wished he was. It would be much more enjoyable than watching Justin do this. NOT that Nick minded watching Justin move his hips, ever, but there was something else behind it right now. The drink was still top priority, though, and he headed straight for it. "See? I'm here. No need to freak."

"I'm not freakin'," Justin answered immediately, ushering him through the velvet rope. "I have not yet begun to fa-REAK." He rubbed his crotch against Nick's thigh, lightning-quick and subtle, and then pulled away with a little smirk. He waved off Nick's bodyguard, and settled into one of the couches with a pleased sigh, full bottle of Cristal cradled in his elbow. "There's all kinds of booze over there," he gestured at the bar, "and it's open. Have whatever you want, as much as you want. Tonight's playtime."

Nick wasn't really in a champagne mood, and got himself a screwdriver and joined Justin on the couch. Not quite as sprawled, but close. When he spread himself out, he could take up an awful lot of room. "I thought this afternoon was playtime," he smirked at him, sipping his drink. "Or am I wrong?"

"This afternoon was rest time," Justin said, answering his smirk with a cool smile. "You said so yourself. Now this, this is a playground. This is where we can get crazy. And don't give me that look, I've seen you rip some shit up in your time, Nicky Gene. It's gonna be hot and cold running hotties out there, Trace gave the DJ a request list, I think BT's showing up to spin for a while, and it's gonna be a NIGHT."

"Nicky Gene," Nick snickered, staring at his drink for a moment, swirling the ice with his finger. "Yeah, it'll be a good time." he agreed finally, lifting his head and giving Justin a smile. "Glad I showed up for it. After all, who'd want to be lazing around on a beach when they could be HERE?"

That checked Justin, his face going still and his chin dropping just a little. His eyes never left Nick's face, until he blinked rapidly, smiled again and shook his head. "Exactly," he agreed. "And if that ever changes, of course, the beach is still there waiting for you, and you're free to go. Especially since this is pretty much a normal night for me." He bared his teeth a little, then turned to the group of boisterous friends, relatives and hangers-on who were tumbling through the door, shouting hellos and congratulations to Justin, and lining up at the bar.

Nick wasn't at all surprised to hear it. "Well, as long as you're *happy*," he murmured into his drink. He was going to need another quickly at this rate. "Nice to hear you enjoy my company as much as I enjoy yours. Are you going to introduce me around, or should I shrink into a corner somewhere?"

Justin shot him a mildly nasty look, but stood up and gestured with the champagne magnum. "Hey, hey!" The room quieted. "This is Nick Carter." "NO SHIT," someone called in the back, prompting giggles. "Shuddup," Justin ordered peacefully. "He's here hanging with me, he's cool, he's all access, got that? So be nice to him, you fuckers." He pointed them out one by one. "That's Ben and Jimmy, they're dancers. That's Crystal, she's one of Chris's dancers, and Jude the lighting guy, and Joe, Joey and Mick are riggers. Julie's in costumes, and that's Mario my hair guy. They're just the early birds."

Nick had to smile at that, at least a little bit. At least he wasn't Justin's dirty little secret. Not that he really could be, after the spectacle he'd made of his presence earlier in the day. "Quite the crew," he murmured, and finished off his drink. "I really am glad to be here you know. I wasn't being all sarcastic. I chose it, after all, to come over her and hang with you. And... administrate."

"Oh, give it time, you'll stop being glad," Justin mumbled cynically, before smiling at him. "Believe me, I'm gonna take advantage of your weird spontateousness, as much as I can while you're here. Even if you're not actually administering at the moment. Uh-oh, I think you need another drink." The music had started to rise, and the lights dimmed. Over the railing of the raised VIP area, Nick could see the dance floor starting to fill, most of the faces turned their way. One of Justin's dancers, sleek brown boy with huge eyes and a mop of curls, nudged Nick's hip with his own and threw a wink and a smile as he slipped down to the dance floor. Justin's eyes narrowed a little, but he didn't say a word.

Nick's eyes followed him anyway, even if he had no intention if following him with his body. He wasn't *dead*, after all. "Oh, I'm quite glad I stayed," he said, right *before* he turned back to Justin. "Another drink sounds like a fantastic idea. We'll experiment with what alcohol does to the... taste."

"You," Justin said quietly, pointing the bottle at him even as he glanced at the retreating back of the dancer, "have a one track mind. And it's a dirty track, too." He found a grin, though, if it was a little strained, and tugged Nick over to the bar. One of the riggers had already set up shop behind it and was pouring huge drinks, the regular bartender looking on bemused. "That was Jimmy," he went on casually as they waited for their drinks. "I think he likes you, you want his room number? He'd be thrilled shitless, probably."

"He's pretty," said Nick calmly as he waited for his drink, "but I thought I already had a room to stay in tonight, with a warm body in it that I much prefer. I'm not wrong, am I?"

"If you want," Justin said, carefully careless and with wary eyes. "It's not like I've got you tied up there, though, y'know, you can do what you want." He handed Nick his drink and lifted his own to toast. "Bottoms up, Carter. To a fun and successful evening."

"I am doing what I want," said Nick, tapping Justin's glass with his own and smiling. "And I definitely do plan to be successful this evening. And I know exactly what I plan to be successful at."

"A'right," Justin smiled back. "It's good to have a plan, man. I've got a couple of my own." He drank half the glass in one gulp, and looked like he was about to say something else when an short older man bustled up to Justin's side, grabbing his elbow.

"Justin!" His greeting was hearty, and he tugged Justin aside, talking rapidly. Justin just nodded and blinked a lot, glanced at Nick once, then away. He finally shrugged, said something, shook hands, and came back.

"They want me to mingle," he informed Nick. "Some of the big tour sponsors are here. Have fun, man, help yourself to whatever." He waved his hand around VIP.

"Yeah, go, go," said Nick, waving his hand vaguely at him. "Work your magic. I'm sure I can find something to entertain myself with." Like maybe a pretty dancer, just for the moment. Just while he had no one better to do. "Have fun!"

"I will," Justin said, just a medium level of sarcasm as he glanced after the small man bustling away. "Tons." He straightened his shoulders, downed half his drink in one swallow, and put on his smile again. He headed down the steps from VIP, flanked front and back and both sides by security, and was immediately surrounded.

Nick just watched, drink in one hand, leaning over the raining on the other. There were things he could do, and things he couldn't do. And this, right now, he couldn't do anything about. Maybe an hour or two from now he could start dropping hints that Justin needed to rest, he had a busy schedule ahead of him, but not now. Justin wouldn't thank him for it. Then again, he didn't think Justin was going to thank him for much of what he was doing here. Except, possibly, the sex.

"Stupid, gorgeous, fucked up dickhead," he muttered, and sipped his drink.

"You called?" The dancer from before--Jimmy--twirled past Nick into a campy pose against the railing. He batted ridiculously long eyelashes at Nick, and smiled, showing even white teeth. "I'm available for all your stupid, gorgeous, and," he glanced unsubtly at Nick's crotch, grinning, "dickhead needs. Or just dancing, whatever floats your boat."

Nick couldn't help but grin at him. It was nice, to see that kind of blatant desire in someone. It was flattering. "Hello you lovely, lovely creature," he said aloud, looking him up and down. "Hi, I'm Nick."

"I know, darling, I know," Jimmy kept smiling. "I was here for our fearless leader's charming introduction of you. Have I mentioned my absolute delight that you're joining us on tour?" He sipped his drink, eyes sparkling. "Welcome to the tour of insanity! Our star is a psycho, people keep quitting, we can't get into Canada, but goddamn it we put on the best damn stage show the world has ever seen!" He gestured extravagantly.

"Yes, your star is definitely a psycho. A gorgeous psycho, but a psycho all the same," Nick agreed with him pleasantly, one eye still on Justin until he disappeared into the crowd. "And that's a hell of a show you guys put on. Hell of a show. And have I mentioned my own delight that you, lovely thing, are not one of the hordes of people who have quit?"

Jimmy's smile grew. "I can't quit! I have to see what happens next! A drama princess like me, I can't go, no matter how nasty things get." He shimmied his hips, moving like oiled silk. "It's not my fault some very famous people are jealous because other people are better dancers. I mean, really, we all just work with what we're given." He leaned closer to Nick, looking up through his eyelashes. "I'll tell you a secret. If Justin and Christina were saner, this would be a very boring tour."

Nick grin grew wider. "Then I'm very glad I got here when I did," he said, "because I wouldn't want to miss it, and I plan to stick around for a while. I don't know much about Christina, but I know Justin and I know he needs a guy like me to keep him in line. So..." He looked Jimmy up and down again. "I like the way you move. We should dance, so you can make me look like the big, hulking brute that I am."

Jimmy mimed a swoon, wrist to brow and trembling knees and all, and giggled before he straightened up. "Mmmm, I adore big hulking brutes. Especially brutes who can dance, which you, darling, most certainly can. Let's go make the whole room drool on themselves, shall we? My night just isn't complete without a little cat scratching." His smile hinted at kittens and cream and other satisfactions.

It wasn't like it was even possible for Nick to turn him down, so he didn't even try. "You're probably never even seen me dance," he teased, touching Jimmy's elbow as he drained the rest of his drink and set his glass down. "I can take a perfectly respectable dance floor and turn it into a mosh pit. I'm sure that the whole floor will drool when they see *your* hips move, though, lovely thing."

"You can call me that all night, if you like," Jimmy informed him, with the placidity of someone who knows he's only getting what's due him. "And maybe I haven't seen you dance, but my ex worked the Black and Blue tour with you, so I got to hear allllll about your dancing. And AJ's. And Howie's." He lifted one perfectly shaped eyebrow, and smirked. "Funny, he never mentioned Brian much, probably because he *liked* Brian. But anyway, he said good things, and we should go light this place up." He bowed with a flourish, and gestured for Nick to head for the dance floor.

"We're a long way from Black and Blue," Nick reminded him, but it wasn't as though he'd forgotten how to move his body. That was one thing he was sure he would never forget. He passed Jimmy, heading for the dancefloor, and snatched up his hand on his way by to pull him along in his wake. None of Justin's bodyguards had stuck around for him this time, that he noticed; probably because Justin was still busy getting himself mobbed.

Jimmy was giggling and almost skipping along after him, and fell instantly into a smooth, sexy dance the moment Nick spun around in the middle of the club. He didn't let go of Nick's hand, either, his grin daring Nick to object as he pulled himself slowly closer, moving to the beat. They were surrounded by moving bodies, but Jimmy warned a couple of too-excited girls off with bared teeth, so they were left in relative peace.

Nick didn't really want to let go anyway. He didn't think it would really matter here, where everything and everyone was focused on Justin, and he wasn't sure he cared, either. Part of making his life his own, making his own choices, was getting more comfortable with who he was and what he wanted. He wasn't there yet, but this was a step in the right direction.

And as long as Justin was busy -- and when Nick looked, he *was* busy -- Nick was going to have some fun this this lovely, lovely boy.

Jimmy folded their fingers together with a big cheesy grin, and danced up closer to Nick. It wasn't exactly sexual, but it definitely wasn't innocent either. Nick wondered if Jimmy was even capable of dancing in a way that could be termed 'innocent.' Still, his smile was more mischief than heat, and he was clearly showing off a little, swiveling his hips and spinning under Nick's arm, then back. And he 'ooohed' appreciatively when Nick did a little shimmy of his own. "J's gonna spit nails," he said with just a hint of smugness, "he sees you dancing like that with some other boy. Let me be the other boy!" He pressed himself against Nick, all camp and laughter.

Nick laughed and just enjoyed himself. He was allowed, after all. It was kind of like a vacation. "Between you and me," he said, "He's more likely to give me the silent treatment than spit nails. That is, until I convince him to..." Nick grinned. "Make some noise." He moved his hips in time with Jimmy and suddenly they were grinding together. Laughing and playing, but still. Grinding.

"I'd pay money to see that," Jimmy answered, suddenly a little breathless. He slid one knee up the outside of Nick's thigh and was suddenly riding Nick's thigh, still grinding but looser, sexier about it. "Shit, I'd pay a *lot* of money to see that, but if I was a betting man I'd bet that it'll be a little harder than you think. Speaking as someone who's been on the recieving end of a Timberlake snit more than once." There was affection in Jimmy's voice when he mentioned Justin, but heavy annoyance as well. "Uh oh," he added suddenly, laughing. "Don't look now, but someone's giving us the evil eye."

Nick snuck a look back over his shoulder, but he wasn't overly concerned. Justin paying ANY kind of attention to him was a good thing, these days. "You may have been on the receiving end of a Timberlake snit, but you've never been on the receiving end of a Carter blowjob, lovely boy. All sins are forgiven, once you're writhing on the bed..."

"Oh, I bet," Jimmy nodded, actually licking his lips as he tipped his head up to meet Nick's eyes. "But *you've* never seen a real snit, I bet, and I'm just gonna sit back and watch." He smirked a little. "It'll be like seeing, what is that? The immovable object and the irresistible something, come together. I mean, I know *I* couldn't resist a Carter blowjob, but I'm not nearly as nasty as Justin can be." His eyes crinkled as he glanced over Nick's shoulder. "Also, much more forgiving than him."

Nick gave him an indulgent grin. "I'll have to keep that in mind," he mused. "You're right, though, I probably *haven't* seen Justin in full snit yet. Though I rearranged some of his schedule today so I think I've at least come pretty close. What is it with these big stars and their divadom, anyway?" And he gave Jimmy a wink.

"God ONLY knows," Jimmy agreed fervently, then checked. "I don't mean you, of course. I can't believe he let you rearrange the holy schedule, though." He gave Nick a look of mock awe, eyelashes fluttering and lips parted. "You must be maaaagic. The diva doesn't deserve you, darling, you should run away with me." He nudged his hips against Nick's playfully, bending himself back over Nick's supporting arm and extending one graceful hand over his head.

"If the diva ever does really go off on me, maybe I will," said Nick, only half teasingly. "You lovely thing, you. I rearranged the schedule while he was sleeping; I think that's probably the only way to do it. And I lived to tell the tale, so I guess it can't have gone *too* badly."

"So really, I should just wait, since it's bound to happen," Jimmy said smugly, dancing even closer and slipping his hand into the back pocket of Nick's jeans. "He's been off his game lately; he only made three people in wardrobe cry this week, and only fired one bodyguard, can you imagine? We all think he's tired. But he's looking much fresher today, he danced like he did at the beginning of the tour, in the show, so it should be--"

"Do you mind?" Justin was standing at Nick's shoulder, loose and easy and casual, but his eyes were like ice. "I hate to interrupt something so cozy, but the press is here."

"Unless they want to talk to me," said Nick, glancing around. "I'm not sure how that's a problem. It's not you I'm dancing with, after all." It figured that right when Nick was having fun with someone, Justin would come and try to spoil it. There didn't seem to be a whole lot of room in Justin's world for fun. "Honestly, I'm just trying to leave you alone to do your thing, Justin, and Jimmy here's been keeping me company. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"So when they start drooling and asking what Nick Carter's doing on my tour dancing with one of my male employees, I should tell them...what?" Justin's tone was pure acid. "Maybe I should tell them that Jimmy here's carrying your love child, and you're here to offer your support and encouragement. It's not like it's hard to believe, and it'll be fantastic publicity for the tour." His eyes raked down their bodies, still pressed together. Jimmy's mouth was a tight line, but his eyes were dancing with supressed glee, hidden from Justin but clear to Nick when he looked down at him.

"You can tell them that Nick Carter will dance with whoever the fuck he wants to. If you want, you can also tell them that Nick Carter likes lovely boys, though that might make it a little more awkward for me to share your room later. Your choice, Justin." Nick sighed and chewed the inside of his cheek, though, because he didn't *want* to set Justin off. "Look, you don't get to order me around, Justin. I was just trying to have a good time, like you wanted me to, until it was time for us to head back again. Okay?"

Justin looked at him in silence for a long moment, then shrugged, with a tight little smile that came nowhere near his eyes. "Fine. Let me know when you want to head back to the hotel, I'll make sure there's a car waiting for you." He spun on his heel without another glance, another word, and slipped away through the crowd.

"Brrrr." Jimmy shivered in Nick's arms. "It's a good thing I'm the best dancer he's got and pretty much irreplaceable, or my ass would be on the next flight to Miami, no questions asked no answers given. It's HOT in Miami right now, too, and all those bugs!"

Nick wasn't smiling, though. "That man," he said, watching where Justin had disappeared, "is possibly one of the most fucked up people I know. And that's saying a lot. I mean, I'm in show business. I know a lot of really fucked up people." He sighed, and kept on holding Jimmy close. "It's not like I wouldn't be hanging out with him if I could. Why doesn't he know that?"

"Awww, sugar." Jimmy ran soft fingers through Nick's hair, turning his face back. "He's just a stupid, crazy boy, is all, and there's nothing you can do about that." His smile was gently sympathetic, and not teasing at all anymore. "He can't tell his ass from his elbow he's so unhappy, so can you really expect him to be able to behave like a normal person? Or see things that normal people can see? *I* can tell you'd rather be with him right now."

"No, not true," said Nick, squeezing Jimmy's hip. "I'm quite happy right where I am right now, thank you very much. But still... you know. Boys make us crazy, and stuff, and we always fall for the wrong ones, or the ones that are just bad for us and in need of a lot of saving. You're an awful lot more fun than he is, anyway. More dancing?"

"More dancing," Jimmy agreed with a firm nod. "Dancing is great therapy. We can forget the crazy-making boys--and honey, I've been there too--and the headaches and just have fun." His smile was bright and inviting and uncomplicated, and his hands were back in Nick's back pockets, and he was dancing. "You can worry about saving Timberlake later."

"Hard to save someone who doesn't want to be saved," murmured Nick, leaning his head in closer, getting comfortable. Forgetting that Justin was probably still watching him and scowling. Trying not to spend this time trying to come up with ways to explain it later. "You're an awesome guy, Jimmy. Justin's got to at least have some smarts, to have you on this tour with him."

"Oh, he's *smart*," Jimmy twinkled up at him, "he's just *crazy*, is all. And you yourself are some of the best taste he's shown in ages. Besides my own fine self, of course, and I think he only keeps me around because he knows I anchor the routines." He wrapped his arms tight around Nick's waist and leaned his head high on Nick's chest. "The show is all, y'know. I could probably blow you right here and not get fired. Okay, maybe not."

"I wouldn't want to put that to the test," Nick said, grinning at him. "It might be worth it, but I'm not in any mood to deal with a pissy Justin tonight. If he even lets me into the room, which is looking more doubtful. Can there be anything more frustrating than stubborn, stupid boys?" He sighed again and shook his head. "Thank goodness for good company, though, lovely thing. I'll have to make sure I go to all the shows, just to see you perform."

Jimmy just beamed at him. "Oh man. I'll totally be looking for you in the crowd. Hard to miss you, all tall and gorgeous and all that blond! People here don't *get* tans like you." He danced a little away from Nick, gently disengaging but still staying within reach. "Stubborn stupid boys, and I somehow forgot to bring my deathwish with me tonight," he explained wryly to Nick's enquiring glance.

Nick grinned again, in understanding this time. "Well, it's not like I'm private property or something," he said. "I just got tired of lounging around on my beach all the time and decided to come out here and join the mania of Justin's tour." He paused and frowned for a moment. "You know, it made a lot more sense before I said it out loud."

Jimmy was looking at him like he was slightly deranged. "Yeah, that doesn't make much sense," he agreed. "Beach, or dealing with La Timberlake? Though I'm guessing he's a tiger in the sack. And if he wasn't so crazy..." He looked a little wistful for a moment, but then shook his head. "Too rich for my blood anyway. You fabulous popstars should stick together, you're the only ones who can tolerate the insanity, at least as far as I can tell. In the meantime, though, I'll be MORE than happy to keep you company, and maybe share some of that property." His leer was cheerful and inviting.

And Nick was very tempted to say yes, because Jimmy was exactly the kind of guy he liked -- happy and friendly and eager, not to mention flexible. "We'll see," he said, though, and it wasn't a tease. He figured Jimmy -- who knew Justin -- would understand. He just didn't know yet. "Timberlake's a little bit irresistable, is all," he added, with a long-suffering sigh. "And I'm a sucker. Besides, *some*one has to keep an eye on that boy before he explodes from the stress of it all. And who better than someone who was once there?"

"Just make sure you don't get hit with the shrapnel," Jimmy advised wisely, dancing close again, but this time much less intimately. Message had been received and understood, Nick judged, and Jimmy was just too good natured to push where he wasn't wanted. "And you come see me when that irresistible thing fades, if it does. Someone as gorgeous as you should have a shoulder to sniffle on if you need one." He grinned at Nick. "I volunteer my shoulder, and all my other parts, right here and now."

"I'm not likely to forget," said Nick appreciately. And he really, really wasn't likely to forget. He licked his lips before he even really realized he was doing it, and flushed a little when he did. "It's gonna be a bumpy ride, but I'm a big boy. I've handled a lot of shit in my time. What's a little more, after all that, right?" He gave Jimmy a bright smile that he really, really meant. He could cope. "Hey, did you ever hear about the night I spent in jail?"

"I did, I heard it from...Benny? Benny. The guy who does AJ's nails dates my friend Benny, and he told me the whole story." Jimmy twinkled at him. "I know allll about you, Nick. I even know about the verysecret tattoo. And other stuff. But I never reveal my sources for the really private stuff, so don't even bother asking." The grin was smug, now, and Jimmy licked his own lips before settling his hands on Nick's hips and doing a couple of quick salsa moves to match the Shakira song booming.

Nick raised an eyebrow at him, and was very impressed. Amused, and impressed. "That's my best pickup story, though!" he protested teasingly. "What am I gonna use if I can't impress guys with my being all butch while in prison? And if you heard anything other than that I was butch and stoic, you were misinformed and I deny everything."

"Um." Jimmy giggled a little, and then looked at Nick solemnly. "I think you need new material, man. Anyway, someone as fine as you? You don't need pickup stories. You can just stand there, and wait for boys to come to you." He ran admiring hands up Nick's arms, moving close and looping his arms around Nick's neck. "See? And I'd be doing this even if Justin wasn't looking about as mad as a wet cat over there in VIP."

"Well, Justin can just stand there and watch if that's what he likes to do," said Nick, feeling just a moment of dread about what Justin would have to say about this later. "I'll do a lot for that boy -- I mean, a *lot* -- but I ain't giving up my life for him. And I'm not giving up the chance to have a lovely thing like yourself wrap his arms around me for a while. Contrary to what you might think, it doesn't happen every day."

"I find that very hard to believe," Jimmy said playfully. "For one thing, I hear Justin's *very* affectionate, not that he's so lovely any more. But." He took his arms away, and planted a gentle, wet kiss on the angle of Nick's jaw, before moving away. "Sweetie, he's enough of a handful without me making it worse. And he's miserable enough that I'm actually feeling a little guilty, here, so I'm gonna go find someone else to play with, okay?"

Nick sighed, but that was probably a good idea. "He is," he had to admit. "And I'm supposed to be doing something about that, even when he's stepping all over me. Don't forget me, though, okay? It would be an awfully long, dull tour without you."

"Baby, there is just no way," Jimmy assured him seriously, before sneaking in one quick grope of his ass, with a grin. "No WAY. I'll be around, sugar, you just ask and someone always knows where to find Jimmy, if you ever need anything. Like a hiding place, or someone to help carry the body." His grin just sparkled with mirth, his eyes all scrunched up, and he waved a little as he started dancing away into the dancing crowd.

Nick gave him a little wave back, and immediately, without really making a conscious decision to do so, wove his way back into VIP. He told himself that it wasn't just to find Justin, that he was just naturally more comfortable in VIP when so many people were around and he didn't have security with him, but that was an utter lie. He loved dancing -- and other things -- when security was absent, and he was already searching the area for Justin.

It was fairly easy to spot him, once Nick got fully into VIP. There was a large crowd of people around him, and Justin was 'on,' teeth flashing in his superstar smile as he lounged in a booth. Legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, one arm up on the back of the booth, over the shoulder of a slim, pretty brunette girl in a tube top who couldn't take her eyes off him. He was gesturing with his free hand, holding the drink, and the crowd around him laughed appreciatively.

Part of Nick wanted to interrupt and pull him away, the other part -- the more rational part -- knew this was childish, but fair, and he had no right to demand Justin do another other than what he was already doing. Much as he wanted to. So he just got himself another drink and took a seat near where Justin was holding court, to watch the proceedings. To watch the Justin he actually like slip further away beneath this facade, this person that nick really didn't care much for at all.

Justin's eyes slid to him the moment he sat down, lingered for a long unreadable moment, then returned to his audience. He dropped his hand so that his fingers curved around the bare shoulder of the girl, and he smiled down into her dazzled face. A couple of the crew rolled their eyes and grinned knowingly, but most didn't even seem to notice.

"I don't know," Justin said just a bit louder, in answer to a question Nick hadn't actually heard. "You should really ask Nick, he's the old pro here." His smile at Nick was just this side of poisonous, as most of the crowd turned to look at him.

"So," one of the guys said expectantly. "What IS the best part of touring? The groupies, the crowd, the money, what?"

"Well, I think it's pretty obvious what's the best part for Justin," he said, giving both him and his brunette a little nod. "I would say the crowd, though. It really pumps you up, remember why you're putting up with the rest of the touring crap. It's in moments when you're standing up there singing and people are cheering and singing along with you and everything feels great, feels the absolute best of anything, ever, that you know why you do it. Of course," he added, his eyes straying back to Justin though they'd hardly left. "That might just be me."

Justin smirked at him, stroking the girl's tanned skin with his fingertips. "We all take what we can get," he said a little cryptically, "some of us just take it from different places. Right, Nicky?" He swallowed down the rest of his drink, and laughed at something the girl whispered in his ear. He glanced at Nick again, still smiling.

"We're neglecting you terribly, huh? You don't look like you're having fun, and you're a guest on tour and everything! The bar's open, get yourself another drink. I'm sure Jimmy'll be back soon."

The crowd around the shifted awkwardly, obviously sensing something in the air, but Nick wouldn't rise to his bait. He lifted his drink and smiled. "Got one, thanks," he said casually. "I'm perfectly happy right here. You just go ahead and keep... taking... and don't mind me at all. I can take care of myself."

"So I've noticed," Justin answered silkily, showing teeth. Then a roadie broke into the tension with a joke that made everyone laugh, and Justin's attention slipped away from Nick as he hooted, slapping his thigh with one hand before taking a huge swallow of the fresh drink that had magically appeared before him. A couple of the crowd looked at Nick with varying degrees of curiosity, but Justin was clearly in the spotlight and demanding all attention, with his anecdotes about tour preparation with Christina.

Nick was pretty happy to not be the center of attention anyway. It wasn't really his style. Center of attention on the stage, yes, always. Anywhere else? He was pretty happy with his ability to blend, which was clearly much more highly refined than Justin's. It was a constant back and forth battle in his life, his envy of Justin's fame and popularity and... well, perfection, or what he thought was perfection... and his genuine happiness at not having that.

At the moment, he was definitely glad not to have it, and went back to watching and sipping his drink and letting Justin have the spotlight all to himself. There would be time enough for the two of them to deal with this later.

Justin finally pushed up from the table, swaying almost imperceptibly, and smiled brightly at the crowd. "Well, looks like they finally got a full dance floor out there, and I'm gonna take advantage of it." He smiled almost kindly at the girl, shaking his head when she made to follow him. "Naw, you stay here, sweetheart. Make sure the boys take good care of you, okay?" He pointedly did not look at Nick as he headed straight for the dance floor, waving off the guards that tried to follow him, getting swallowed almost immediately in the dancing bodies.

"Stupid, fucked-up bastard," Nick muttered under his breath. He didn't even know if he was meant to follow or not, but he knew for *certain* he was meant to see. Justin didn't know what the hell he wanted, and Nick was as much of an idiot as Justin was to get involved in the whole thing in the first place. But he was a slave to his libido. And his heart. And his conscience. Probably in that order. And so of course he stayed.

As soon as his drink was finished he stood at the railing and watched Justin move. And made no secret of the fact that he was watching. Justin, after all, made no secret of how he'd been watching Nick.

Justin was dancing with complete abandon, hands over his head, letting the crowd press close around him. He ground up against one girl in front of him, and laughed when another, very tall, licked a line up his neck. His eyes found Nick, met Nick's, and he stared for a long moment before being yanked off-balance by grabbing hands from the crowd. He laughed again and wrenched away, only to be tugged aside again by two girls who couldn't seem to agree on which one would get to dance with him first. Someone else pushed those two aside, and Justin had a moment where he was dancing in free space, head thrown back and eyes closed, and then the girls closed in around him again.

Nick felt a chill, though, even as he found the sight strangely beautiful. Because it was like Justin wanted to be ripped apart by them, far enough away from his bodyguards that he couldn't be saved. He looked like he wanted to lose himself in it and never come out again. And despite all his doubts about this, despite not knowing what the hell he was doing, there was no way in hell Nick was going to let him do that. He abandoned VIP again and headed down to join Justin on the dancefloor.

Even on a floor that packed, Nick's size and determination got him through the crowd with relative ease. He only started to struggle when he got closer to Justin: the bodies were so tightly jammed together that Nick had to literally force his way through. And before he even realized it, he was looking at the back of Justin's head, the four long red scratches down his neck, the smear of lipstick on the other side, and watching Justin's shoulders tighten and bunch as he heaved back against the hands of the crowd one more time. He'd lost his sweatshirt somewhere and was down to his black tank, but when Nick caught a glimpse of his face he was still grinning.

He didn't go uber-possessive, he didn't drag Justin off the dance floor, but he stood his ground and stayed put, drawing some of the crowd away and keeping Justin as safe as he could, and scouting out the bodyguards who were ringing the floor but who probably couldn't see much of what was going on.

He managed to get a "hey, sexy" into Justin's ear at some point, but that was the extent of the overt contact he coule manange without making them a lot more conspicuous than Justin wanted them to be. Nick did notice, to his amusement, that his own crowd drew not a few young men, after the spectacle he'd made of himself with Jimmy.

Justin slanted an unreadable glance over his shoulder at Nick, his eyes swept the crowd, and then he was back to dancing, though Nick felt the occasional brush of a hand and bump of a hip even in the packed press. They were dancing more or less back to back, since apparently even Justin wasn't crazy enough to move away from something nonthreatening on his back into the crowd that was getting more and more frenzied.

A sudden sharp sound made Nick spin away from the pretty boy who was smiling at him, and he saw Justin bent at the waist, arm up by his head as the other hand clutched at his ear.

Nick's hand was up in the air, signalling Jim right away, and he was shouting, "Back away now!" before he even realized he was doing it. And then down on his knees with a thump that made him ache, but he didn't care. "Justin?" he said, and wished he'd been watching. "Justin!"

"Fuck," Justin gritted out from between his teeth, eyes wet and tightly closed. "Fucking...ripped out my earring...goddamn..." He was still bent over, and rested his forehead on Nick's shoulder as security closed in around them. There was blood on his hand and dripping down his neck, and he didn't resist at all when two of the security guards practically picked him up and hustled him off the floor, the rest staying tight around Nick.

"Time to go, I think," said Nick, and was extremely cooperative as they led him off the floor behind Justin, through the crowds that were still gathered. Which was probably a nice change for them, he thought in the back of his mind. "Hotel, right? We're going back to the hotel? He's not going to be an idiot and try to hang out in VIP for a while, bleeding all over the place?"

"We're not giving him the option," one of the not-Jims told him a little grimly, and indeed, the bodyguards were taking Justin straight out the door, despite the fact that he looked like he was protesting. Strongly. "What a pain in my ass." He muttered something into his headpiece, and Justin was hustled outside without so much as a goodbye, Nick and his guards right behind.

"I'm not *done*," Justin was hissing as Nick came up to them. "It doesn't hurt, and it's almost stopped bleeding, and it's only one am. I can't leave this early!"

"It hasn't stopped bleeding," Nick pointed out, as he watched a couple drops of blood fall off Justin's fingers. "And if they let you go back inside, I would drag you back out myself and throw you in a cab. And you know I would." He braced himself for Justin to hurl insults at him, if not actually reach out and hit him. "Come on, let's go back, okay? I promise it won't be boring..."

"Oh, but Jimmy's still here," Justin said, voice saccharine-sweet as he kept glaring at the guard, who stood immovably with arms crossed, looming over him. "You don't want to leave without him. It'll make YOUR night much less boring, that's for sure." He stood tense and angry, before slamming his palm into the side of the limousine. "Fuck ALL of you. And he," he pointed at Nick without looking at him, "is not riding in my limousine. Throw me in a cab my ASS."

"ON your ass, more like," snapped Nick, glancing at the door and actually wishing he'd had a chance to say goodbye to Jimmy. "Believe me, the last thing I want is to be trapped inside a small space like that with you when you're like this. I'll meet you back at the hotel, Justin. Try not to be a bitch to all the people who are trying to look out for you before I get there, yeah? You could, after all, still be in there having all the hair ripped from your head, or worse. Even if you have some fucking death wish, you're obviously not much into pain."

Justin flipped him a silent but highly expressive bird as he was shoved none-too-gently into a cab by Jim, who rolled his eyes at Nick and then climbed in after him.

"Hey, hey," Jimmy was breathless as he came bursting out of the club, and Nick saw Justin's face turn abruptly away from the window of the limousine. "Hey, is everything okay? The boys came down like the wrath of god in there, are you okay?"

"Justin just got a little... roughed up," said Nick vaguely. He didn't know what the rules were here, and he had a tendency to say too much at the best of times, unless he was coached. "I wouldn't, um, try to talk to him right now or anything. He's a little testy." He heard a snort of repressed laughter from somewhere nearby, at the description. "Everything's fine, though. We just, you know, gotta go."

Jimmy snorted. "I didn't come out to check on *him*. He's like some kind of cat, only with five thousand lives instead of nine." He looked into Nick's eyes. "You're okay, though? Didn't get banged around, J didn't throw a punch or anything? He was seriously pissed earlier, I think. Don't let him take shit out on you, you're too great for that." He looked around as Justin's limousine pulled away. "How are you getting back, anyway?"

Nick watched the departing limo with a mixture of resignation and frustration and amusement. "Cabbing it, I suppose. He refused to let me in with him. Little bitch. Just because I told him I'd drag him off the dance floor if he tried to go back in. And I totally fucking would've, too." He sighed and shook his head and finally met Jimmy's eyes again. "I'm fine though, nothing happened to me, not from the girls, not from Justin. I give as good as I get anyway. So no need to worry and all. But thank you, that's really sweet."

Jimmy shrugged, lips quirking in a little grin. "It wasn't all sweet. I really wanted to know what was going on!" He giggled at Nick's rolled eyes, and waved his arm at a passing cab. "Here's your cab. Your night might be over, and Justin's, but mine's just starting, baby. There are hours of music left." His eyes were a little more serious when Nick moved to get in the cab. "Take care. See if you can jolly that bitch up, too, before we have to deal with him in rehearsals tomorrow!"

"I'll give him a blowjob that'll make his toes curl, how about?" said Nick, and gave Jimmy a wicked grin. "Thank you, for everything, and I hope for a lot of good company in the future. And if anything interesting happens, I promise you'll be the first person I tell." He even blew Jimmy a little kiss, a gesture he thought Jimmy would appreciate more than most. "See you soon."

Jimmy caught the kiss with a beaming grin, and waved as Nick slid into the cab and pulled away. The ride back to the hotel was surprisingly short, and Nick barely had enough time to gather his thoughts before they were pulling up at the entrance.

There was a bodyguard waiting to hold the door, and pay the cabbie, and usher him inside. Another not-Jim, but clearly just as competent. "Mark," he said briefly, in answer to Nick's curious look. "I'm not taking you to Mr. Timberlake's room, by his request. If we happen to walk by there on our way to your suite, and possibly pause and check to be sure that my master key still works in the lock, it will be pure coincidence."

Nick smirked and stared at his feet to hide it. "I have a suite?" he said quietly, and kicked the carpet. "Thanks, Mark, I'll keep that in mind. I'll try to avoid having anything hurled at my head, should we happen to drop by. One of the pair of us bleeding all over the place is quite enough, I'd think."

"Definitely more than enough. I'd advise you to duck, but I'm pretty sure you already know that." Mark pressed the button for the elevator to take them up. "Your suite is actually one floor up from Mr. Timberlake's. We wanted to keep you off the same floor, just for security reasons. If you need to get back and forth, you're close enough to use the private stairwell, and all the security has been informed that you're a pass-through." The elevator stopped on Justin's floor. "Mr. Timberlake's already been informed that he'll need stitches, once the swelling goes down."

"I'm sure he'll be real happy about that," groand Nick. Then again, maybe he *would*. And that was a lot scarier. "Thanks for all your help, all you guys. I should say that while I have a chance, while he's not around. Off the record. He's a handful, and... yeah. You know what I'm saying."

"I do," Mark agreed dryly. "That's the job, though, and I gotta say I've had worse." He led the way down the hall, and slid the key into the lock, giving Nick a little wave that was a combination 'go ahead' and 'good luck' and 'it's your funeral.' Nick realized he was taking up a post next to the door as it swung closed.

"Whoever that is, I don't want to see you unless you're my mom." Justin's quiet voice, hardly the scream of rage Nick had expected, came out of the dark bedroom.

"I'm not your mother," said Nick, approaching him carefully, "but I'm willing to kiss you on the forehead and tuck you in if you like."

Justin sighed, and didn't say anything for a long moment. Nick's eyes finally adjusted, and he saw Justin, sitting in the chair by the bed with a bag of ice, probably, held to the side of his head. "Nicky, go home," he said, his voice just as quiet as it had been before. "Just get on a plane and go back to your beach and your pretty dancing boys and your straw hut or whatever, okay? I'm sure the fish already miss you, and you'll be a lot happier there."

Nick took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Do you want me to hold that ice for a while?" he asked Justin, moving closer. "Your hand must be cold and your arm is probably getting tired."

"Yeah, well." Justin shifted a little in the chair, propping his elbow on the arm and leaning his head against the icepack. "Them's the breaks." He glanced up at Nick without moving his head, eyelashes shadowing his eyes. "Are you ignoring me, or are you deaf? I really think you should go home now. You've got the stories to tell the kids, now get out while the getting's good."

"Not really ignoring you," said Nick, closer still, almost to Justin's side. "More like silently disagreeing with you. I told you where I wanted to be and I'm here and do you want me to hold that ice or not? You should say yes, when people offer to do menial stuff like this for you. Just yes, thank you. Short and sweet."

"No thank you," Justin said politely. "I can hold my own ice. It's easier just to lean on it like this, you wouldn't know how hard to push." He kept looking at Nick. "You realize, you stay here you're probably gonna end up nuts or miserable and hating me, like everyone else on this fucking tour. I'd rather you didn't, which is why I'm asking you to go."

"I think you're an asshole sometimes," said Nick honestly, "but I don't hate you. I get some of it even, why you... well. Ain't nobody on this tour who gets it as much as me, and you know that, and I know that. And since you've already given me a pretty important job to do, I think I'll stay, thanks."

"I think your tour was a lot different from this tour, and no that's not an insult, so quit making that face," Justin said impatiently. "But I'm not gonna argue with you about it either." He shifted a little in his chair, and his voice went very flat and cool. "And if you want to keep that important job of yours? I'm afraid I'm gonna have to insist on no fucking the dancers. It's just a little much to ask of their concentration, I think."

"And if you want *me* to keep doing that important job of mine?" Nick returned, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist that you don't assume I'm going to fuck every single person I talk to. I'm not a fucking whore, thank you very much. I'm with you; to me that means I'm not with anyone else. Even if we're just... whatever."

"Talk to? No, no assumptions there. Grope and lick and hump publically? Sorry, man, that's a little hard to take." Justin's voice stayed even and cool, and Nick couldn't see his eyes. "Whore or not whore isn't the issue here, it's no hair off my ass either way. But not-" he paused, and Nick could almost see him changing what he was about to say. "Not the dancers," he finished. "That's all I ask." He shifted again, pressing the ice more tightly to his ear, which Nick could see was bandaged in white gauze.

"Just dancing," Nick said, shaking his head. "Just dancing. He's a nice guy. And that *is* the issue to me; I'm... honest. So are you sure you don't want me to hold that ice? I promise I won't be a complete fuckup at it."

"Hard to fuck this up," Justin sighed, taking the icebag away and eyeing it, before placing it back against his ear. "I just don't think you'd be able to get the right angle on it. You'd have to be sitting in my lap or something, and if you were doing that I gotta hope you wouldn't just be holding ice on my ripped-to-shit ear." He crossed his bare ankles, big feet almost brushing the bed, and glanced over at the minibar. "You could grab me one of those little bottles of rum, though, if you're feeling helpful."

"I could do that, and then I could sit in your lap and kiss you while I was holding ice to your ear," Nick offered, kicking off his shoes and padding over to the minibar in sock feet. "And then after your ear is stitched up, I could blow you to make it feel all better. And then we can both get some sleep or something, cause we got to do it all again tomorrow. Except hopefully not the ear-ripping part."

"Right, not that," Justin agreed quickly enough, watching Nick move around the room. "Not that part. The rest of it sounds okay, though, but I think I'll probably have to move to the bed. Don't think both of us'll fit on this chair." He sort of oozed off the chair and directly into the bed without ever standing all the way upright, and Nick was reminded again that Justin was capable of having a fully coherent conversation while so drunk he couldn't walk.

He grabbed two bottles, one for himself and one for Justin, and quite happily returned to the bed. It was a lot more fun hanging out with a Justin who was this agreeable. If only it could last, or something like it. Something other than the guy he'd seen earlier. "I could've done it on the chair," he protested softly. "But the bed looks comfy and I think we'll be much happier there anyway. Is the doctor coming here?"

"Doctor's been here, he's the one that taped me up, gave me a tetanus shot, and told me to show up tomorrow for stitches." Justin lounged back against the pillows, eyes still dark and guarded, expression closed. "Maybe you could do it in the chair, but I danced for two hours tonight and I'm fuckin' sore. And tired." He slid his legs over, making room for Nick, and held his free hand out for the little bottle.

Nick handed it over before crawling up onto the bed. "I don't like the idea of you sleeping on it without stitches," he said, trying to get a good look without actually touching where his fingers weren't wanted. Especially when there were probably a lot of places where they *were*. "We can skip the rest and go right to the sleeping part if you want. I don't mind. There's always morning."

"You taking back that blowjob offer, Carter?" Justin's voice was mild as he twisted off the top to the bottle. "I got a feeling neither of us is going to be waking up early enough to do anything in the morning, so if you want some nookie, now's your moment. Unless it's my bloody ear turning you off." He actually looked briefly concerned by that, and glanced at Nick questioningly.

"I'm worried," Nick said honestly, touching Justin's cheek, the closest he dared to get. "But it doesn't make you any less hot, if that's what you're thinking. I'd blow you any time, up to and including on that dance floor. But only if you want it, you know? And after a clawing like that... not sure you do?" He made the last bit a question, and hoped that Justin would say he did.

"Don't worry," Justin assured him. "That's just normal, except for the ear thing, which okay, hurts a lot. But still better than when Chris got his nipple ring yanked out." He shuddered at that thought, and the corner of his mouth tipped in a little smile. "The doc sprayed all the scratches with that antibiotic shit, people are so filthy. You, as far as I can tell, don't scratch or bite at all, so you're welcome to whatever part of me you can reach." He spread his free arm out invitingly.

"I do bite," said Nick, stretching out next to him, tangling one clothed leg with Justin's. "But only when invited to. I know that shit's normal, Justin, I know they do that. Backstreet Boy, remember? Which is why you don't plunge into the middle of a crowded dance floor alone when you think it might. I don't... I don't get that. I don't get why."

Justin shrugged minimally and didn't even try to explain. He wrapped one hand around the nape of Nick's neck and drew his mouth down, licking inside immediately and tracing Nick's teeth with his tongue. He surged up against Nick's body unexpectedly, digging his ankle in behind Nick's knee, and pressing him close. "No blowjobs tonight," he muttered against Nick's mouth. "Fuck me instead."

"And here I was thinking it would be a good night to be gentle," murmured Nick, rubbing against him. "Next time you think you might want to plunge into a crowd, you should just ask me to fuck you hard. That would be a lot more fun, don't you think? Activities that make you come are always good ones."

Justin made a noncommittal sound that turned into a moan when he twisted a little and got their hips lined up just right. His hands were busy, one twisted in Nick's hair and the other trying to get Nick's shirt off with very little success. "How about you just fuck me hard anyway," he purred between kisses, "and make me come, and that'll be good all on its own."

"Good enough for you to want to ask for it next time," said Nick, taking the initiative to kiss Justin this time, hard and wet. "Though I'm a little insulted that it wasn't already." He helped Justin with the shirt, but left the pants fastened for the moment. "You okay that we're going it without condoms? Not that it's not too late already, but..."

Justin shrugged. "It's fine with me," he slipped out of his pants, flexible as an eel, and kicked them over the side of the bed. "And I just *did* ask for it, Carter, or did you miss that part?" He grinned up at Nick, hard and challenging, and returned the kiss with interest that almost split Nick's lip. "C'mon," he breathed into Nick. "Show me what you got. Just let go."

"Isn't that my line?" murmured Nick against his lips, struggling out of his own pants with much less grace than Justin. "I meant... you know what I meant." As soon as he was in bed with Justin, instinct and desire kicked in, and things he'd been trying not to think when they were inappropriate bubbled to the surface again. There was very little he wanted to do more than fuck Justin right then.

"I have no idea what you meant," Justin answered with a smirk, helping push Nick's jeans off. "But that's okay, as long as you're gonna do it. Do me. Right now." His legs snaked up around Nick's waist like it was pure good instincts, and Justin's eyelids fluttered as he rubbed his erection against Nick's belly. Too-thin and pale and tired, and Justin Timberlake begging with his whole body was still just about the single sexiest thing Nick had ever seen.

"I don't have..." Nick began, but he hadn't had lube the first time and it had worked out okay. "Just breathe," he said, and kissed Justin hard again before offering him his fingers, to slick them up.

"I remember," Justin said with an almost-laugh, before taking Nick's fingers in and licking all over them quickly. "Believe me, I remember, breathe and push and relax, I've got it." He tilted up his hips for Nick's hand, letting go of Nick's hair to grab the headboard above his head, arching his back.

"I should get up and get the..." began Nick, but one look at Justin's expression and he knew Justin wasn't letting him go anywhere, for anything. This, too, was a little disturbing, but less so than a lot of other things Justin could be doing. "Okay then." Justin was already wide open for him, legs spread, waiting. Nick pushed one finger inside and said, "Don't worry about anything, I'll take care of you."

Justin gave him one tight nod, and hissed through clenched teeth, but it was a sound more of release of tension and pressure than of pain. His eyes closed again as he pressed his hips back towards Nick demandingly, all the muscles in his legs tightening as he fought to get Nick even closer to his body.

"More," he said in a strangled voice. "Harder, please, more, now, don't wait, Nick. I need more."

One of these days, Nick wanted to be able to do it slow and gentle with him, but not today. Not when fucking hard might keep Justin from doing something self-destructive. Another finger first, though, and twist and push and find the places inside that would open Justin up even more. Only then would Nick go any further than he already was.

"Another one," Justin demanded, opening up smooth and easy, and panting lightly now, like he'd been running or dancing. His whole body jerked when Nick brushed his prostate, and he made a low, painful sound and wiggled on the bed. "Feels so good it hurts. Ohfuck. 'Nother finger, need one more, hurry!"

Nick had been planning to go right in without a third, but since Justin was begging for it he was happy to oblige. He swallowed up Nick's fingers so eagerly Nick almost wanted to get his whole hand in there, just to see what that would feel like. Maybe someday they would.

"Okay, enough," he murmured, turning his fingers, curling them. "I wanna be in there, Justin. I'm gonna... now..."

Justin mumbled an incoherent protest as Nick withdrew his fingers slowly, and clamped down like he could keep them inside, but his eyes flashed open and fixed on Nick's face when Nick settled himself between Justin's legs. "Other way," he got out, squirming. "Let me turn over, I wanna try it that way again. Can I?" His hands stroked over Nick's shoulders and neck and hair restlessly, in time with the little seeking movements of his hips.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," said Nick, backing off just enough for Justin to move. "Whatever way you like it, Justin, just... soon." Nick stroked himself lightly while he waited. Not too much, though, or it would all be over too fast. Especially since watching the way Justin moved just made him harder. "Want you."

"Yes," Justin agreed sincerely, before twisting himself under Nick until he was laying on his belly, hips impatiently in the air. "*Please* do it now," he almost begged, bracing his forearms next to the pillow and dropping his head down between his arms. The long groove of his spine was one clean arch in the light coming in the hotel window.

Nick liked it the other way better, liked to be about to see Justin's face, liked to kiss, but this was hot, too. Very hot. And, apparently, very what Justin needed. It was so easy to slide in, such a fucking *relief* to be encased in Justin's tightness. Hotness. He ran his hands all the way up Justin's back as he sank down and sighed happily.

Justin seemed to melt under him, going loose and pliant and relaxed, and he made some happy-sounding noises into the pillow, and started moving his hips back against Nick. "Oh," he said clearly, though, when Nick changed the angle just a fraction, and he sounded amazed and blissful and horny all at once. "Okay," he breathed, turning his head to look back at Nick. "I'm okay, you can do it. Give it to me."

Nick ducked down to kiss him, swiftly, stretching his body to its limits. "I am," he said, and moved his hips, pushing further inside, as far as he would go. He would fuck Justin hard, because Justin was just about the biggest bottom boy Nick had ever met, but not so hard he would hurt him. He hoped that wasn't what Justin was looking for, out of him.

Justin just arched his back even further, whimpered, and sagged down against the pillows when Nick started to move. First gently, because no matter what he said Justin just wasn't that experienced, but then the slick slide of Justin's body, the way Justin took him inside with such ease, let him speed up. One hand on Justin's shoulder, the other braced on the bed, Nick pressed deep and hard and fast and Justin squeaked and hissed "YES," slipping one hand under his own body.

Nick let him this time, using both hands already, not able to free up one of them for fear of losing his balance and rhythm. It maybe wasn't the most courteous thing, but he guessed that Justin would prefer having Nick driving into him to having Nick jerk him off. "Oh god," he breathed, feeling each thrust in his spine, everywhere. "Justin. Justin."

Justin drew his knees up under himself, changing the angle yet again and letting Nick get even closer, burying his face in the pillow to muffle his voice again. Nick was pretty sure he heard his name in there, though, and God's, and possibly some more begging. Justin's hand was working under his body, more and more quickly, and his shoulder muscles bunched as Nick ground his pelvis closer and closer, getting in as deep as he could. With no more sound than a quiet breath, Justin stiffened and shuddered and bucked once, twice, three times, muscles closing like a fist around Nick's cock.

Nick gasped himself, and *couldn't* even come until Justin had started to relax again, until he could get those last few strokes in there that would finish him off now that he would let them. He sighed as he came, sliding a hand up Justin's back again, his body following as smoothly as anything he'd done so far. "Oh, Justin," he said, like Justin's name was the sexiest thing ever. Right then, it was.

Justin breathed silently for a few long moments under Nick's body, face turned to the side and eyes closed, fingers still tightening and loosening around the fistful of blankets he'd grabbed at some point. Finally, his eyes opened, blinked once or twice, and then he craned his neck so he could look at Nick.

"You know, that kind of thing could be seriously habit-forming." His voice was still a little gravelly, and he cleared his throat before going on. "Damn, Nick."

"I *want* it to be habit forming," said Nick, giving him another swift kiss while he could, still sprawled over Justin's back. "I want you to want to do that at every available moment. Or, well, maybe not quite that much, because you need to dance and all, but just about." If it put Justin in this much of a good mood, though, maybe the damage to his dancing would be an acceptable price.

Justin smirked a little and wiggled, clearly indicating he wanted to turn over. "I'm in the wet spot, man, lemme scoot over." Nick lifted off obligingly, and Justin rolled over to his back, closer to the edge of the bed. "Anyway, yeah. Sadly, I can't just bag it all and live in bed, having tons of sex, as tempting as it might be. That don't mean we can't have a whole lot of it as long as you're here, though."

"Well, that's the plan," said Nick, grinning at him. "Have sex and then lounge around in bed as often as possible. I never got to blow you, though. Are we saving that for morning? I don't mind. It's a great breakfast, right when I wake up next to you."

"Yeah, I don't think that's such a good idea," Justin said mildly, playing with the long, shaggy ends of Nick's hair. "I don't sleep great with people in my bed, and I definitely need to sleep, right? So maybe you should sack out in your room, or whatever, and we'll hook up tomorrow whenever." His grin was a little crooked. "Then I can get that blowjob for sure."

Nick blinked at him a few times, taking a moment to let that process through his brain. "Uh," he said, and kept staring. "We, uh, slept together before, and you didn't have any trouble thing, you know. I mean. Why don't you want to sleep with me?"

"I don't think it's a good idea," Justin repeated just as evenly, though there was a little furrow between his brows now, and his eyes had narrowed a hair. "We're not dating, we're not married, we're not getting attatched, so it's just more comfortable to sleep separate. I like to spread out in bed anyway, I think I really sleep better alone."

"Right," said Nick, and willed his own voice not to get cold even though he was feeling it. "So, what, you want me to get out of your way now that we've fucked. Is that the idea here? It looks like someone's already taken my things up to my room, it shouldn't take me long. If you want me gone."

"You don't have to leave this *instant*," Justin sighed, shaking his head. "I mean, it's not like I'm kicking you out without cab money, Carter, jeez. I'm just trying to avoid any misunderstandings here, and I thought you'd *appreciate* that." He yanked one of the stray pillows over to shove under his head--there was no other word to describe it--huffily, punched it a couple of times, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, I do," said Nick slowly, wrapping an arm around Justin in spite of the back off signals. "Kind of. I guess. I just thought I was staying and all. I mean, because when we did it before, it was good, right? It doesn't have to mean anything you don't want it to mean. It's just... comfortable. And when you're in a new bed every couple of days, comfortable and familiar is good. Just think of me like a teddy bear or something. I really, really big, squooshy teddy bear."

"Yeah, comfortable. Too comfortable," Justin muttered under his breath, then heaved a sigh. "Okay, look, you know as much as me that sleeping together crosses a line, a buddies line, and that line ain't crossable. Plus before, we were napping, and that's totally different, not the same at all as spending the night." He didn't fight Nick's arm, but didn't cuddle closer, either, though his head tipped to rest against Nick's chest. "So y'know, teddy away, teddy bear, but don't get too settled, cause I happen to know you've got a very nice room of your own."

"Yeah, but I'm alone in my nice room," said Nick, stroking Justin's back slowly, "and I came here to see you, and this is the only time we really get together, you know? I don't know why you'd want to waste it apart."

"Dude, we have been together almost all day, I've seen you more than my mom, you should be sick of me by now." Justin's breath was hot on Nick's chest, right over the tattoo, and he was slowly relaxing under Nick's hand. "You're some strange guy who likes pain, right? The more I piss you off, the more you come back?" He stretched his legs out luxuriantly, glanced at his watch, then molded his body to Nick's again. "Damn, issonly two. I'm usually just gettin' started right about now." He hid a yawn against Nick's chest.

"I'm not the one here who likes pain," murmured Nick, lifting his hand to stroke Justin's hair. "Your body just needs to catch up on sleep, is all. Then you'll be able to party all night again. Everyone needs a break sometimes."

"I don't like pain," Justin protested immediately, indignantly through the sleepy fuzz of his voice. "Pain *hurts*, man, it's no fun. Maybe you got something with this sleep thing, though. Fuck I'm tired." He yawned again, never opening his eyes. "You gotta go," he murmured indistinctly, even as he tossed an arm over Nick's waist. "Go sleep away."

"Later," Nick promised him, "I'll go away later." Like, in the morning, after Justin woke up for his workout. "I'll sleep away later." *While* Justin was working out, because Nick sure as hell wasn't going to join him. He'd been down that road before, and he wasn't going to do it again. It wasn't for him.

"Mmm," Justin agreed wordlessly, and was out cold, naked and a little sticky and warm, all up against Nick's side. Nick found himself thankful that the lights were already out, because he couldn't imagine the contortions it would take to get to the lamp, and wasn't really sure he'd be able to do it without waking up Justin. Which, on the list of things he wanted to do, was at the absolute bottom.

He tugged the blankets up slightly and kept on stroking Justin's hair, closing his own eyes. The best way to keep Justin sleeping, he figured, was to fall asleep himself.

* * *

Nick flipped his cards over and showed his hand, raising his arms in triumph as Jimmy slumped in despair and handed over the last little bag of Cheetos. "Fuck. Nicky, no man is that lucky. You're cheating, right? Tell me you're cheating. Save my manly self-respect!" He fell over and his head landed directly in Nick's lap, as he looked up with huge mournful eyes. "Give me back my Cheetos?"

That look, Nick figured, warranted at least *one* Cheeto. So one Cheeto was what Jimmy got. "If you beg real nice, I might let you have another," he teased, pulling his fingers away before Jimmy could like them. Which he *would*. "I have more class than to cheat at cards, you know. I only cheat at the important things."

"Cards are important," Jimmy pointed out, before sticking his tongue out and wiggling it around beseechingly. "And I'll beg any way you want me to, baby." He rolled over gracefully, sat up on his knees, and yipped like a sad puppy. Three of the other dancers scattered around the ready room looked over, then rolled their eyes and went back to their conversations. "See? I have no shame when it comes to artificial orange cheese products shipped from America."

Nick fed him another, and let him lick this time. "I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to have these," he teased, eating one himself. "I, on the other hand, don't have to care the slightest bit about my figure. So I get to eat all the Cheetos. Besides," he added, sticking his own orange tongue out. "I earned them fair and square."

"I have a very fast metabolism," Jimmy answered smugly. "I can eat whatever I want and still look just this fine. Of course, the four hours a day of dancing don't hurt." He sprawled out again and propped his chin on his hands, watching Nick. "Anyway, besides cheating me out of my hard-earned snack food, why are you here? I mean, yes, I'm irresistible, but shouldn't you be out," Jimmy's hand waved vaguely in the air, "doing something?"

Nick shrugged and licked off the rest of his fingers before stacking up the cards. "Justin's busy," he said, like that explained everything. "Where else am I gonna be? Besides, you're fun, you know you're fun, *I* know you're fun. Why wouldn't I be right here bugging you and kicking your ass at cards?

"Justin's always busy, and I'm always fun" Jimmy said knowingly. "That hasn't stopped you from following him around so far. You usually don't show up and CHEAT at cards until like six." He took his cards and groaned, slapping them back down. "I don't have anything left to bet, you freak of nature, so just go ahead and consider me folded forever. Anyway, I'd much rather hear about you and the Pop Prince."

"Like you don't know enough already?" said Nick, raising an eyebrow at him and feeding him another Cheeto. "He's... you know how he gets. Even I get tired of it sometimes and need a break from... from whatever it is I'm doing here."

"Glad I'm not the only one confused, here," Jimmy murmured, rolling his eyes as he licked orange powder off his lips. "Yes, darling, I know how he gets, what I don't understand is why you're still here dealing with it. I mean, at least he's *paying* me. Quite well. You, well. You're a good boy, Nicky, but unless you're secretly running for sainthood and no one told me, you've gone way beyond the call here."

Nick sighed and shrugged and wiped his fingers on his pants this time. "It sounds stupid when I say it out loud," he said. "So I pretty much don't. It's not like everyone here doesn't know what I'm *doing* with him anyway. In, like, a physical sense."

"No, I think you're safe there, that's no secret," Jimmy agreed. "You two are loud, and also very loud. But what we can't figure out is why *him*." He rolled over into Nick's lap again, resting his head on Nick's thigh, folding slender hands on his belly. "You can tell me, I promise not to laugh."

Nick was about to call him a total liar, since Jimmy was already grinning, but was interrupted when a stagehand with a headset stuck his head in the door. "Dancers are on call, front stage for blocking, chop chop," he called, and Jimmy groaned.

"Aren't you doing something about this?" His gesture took in the dressing room full of costumes, the other dancers, the stage hand, the imaginary Justin.

"Notice how he's not in here yelling at you personally?" said Nick, gesturing around the same area. "See? I'm doing a good job. Taking his mind off things... whenever I can." Which wasn't often enough, as far as Nick was concerned. And it was damn frustrating. "This isn't who he is, Jimmy," he added softly. "And I don't know why it's who he seems to be, right now."

"He's fucked up," Jimmy proclaimed. "Which we knew. Okay, sugar, I've gotta go dance for the dragon." He got to his feet and sauntered towards the door, and waved goodbye with the hand that was holding the purloined bag of cheetos. "Oh, and you should come, take his 'mind off things.' Especially right now, since my crew's up next apparently and I really can't remember the new steps for that one bridge."

"He wouldn't be too happy, to know I was hanging out with you," admitted Nick. It wasn't anything Jimmy didn't already know, or suspect, Nick was sure. "And I thought you were the best dancer out there, hm? Forgetting steps now, are you?"

"We only learned them yesterday," Jimmy protested. "C'mon, I'm sure he won't care, or if he does it's bound to distract him. He already knows we hang out, you think he doesn't keep track of what goes on around here? It's nothing secret." He beckoned Nick, making a kissy face. "C'mon, you handsome blond hunk 'o man, come watch us rehearse."

Nick rolled his eyes, but he was already following. "Handsome blond hunk o'man?" he echoed him. "I think I've blinded you with my charm. Then again, I managed to land that hunk o'Timberlake... kind of... so I guess I must have something going for me."

"You've blinded me with your something, all right," Jimmy looked him up and down admiringly before leading the way to the stage. "Probably the same thing you blinded Justin with, that lucky boy. It's so unfair, he's such a bitch, and still gets all the good sex. Oh, hi, Justin." Jimmy was totally unfazed by realising that they were standing right next to him "Have you called places yet?"

Justin just stared at him, then glanced at Nick, then shook his head. "Three minutes, they're taping the mic stands again. Go get set."

"Hey," said Nick, giving Justin a slight wave as Jimmy scampered away. "You told me to get the hell out of your way, and here I am, staying the hell out of your way. More or less. Right up until now, actually. How are you doing?"

Justin shrugged. "I'd be doing a lot better if these--fuck, BEN!" He shouted at a stagehand up on a ladder. "LEFT! The blue spots have to go further to the LEFT!" The stagehand waved agreement and Justin waved back. "Anyway, this shit's almost done, we've just got to get these two new routines nailed and we're good for showtime." His voice, even when shouting, maintained a nice even tone. He didn't even sound angry, but he didn't look at Nick, either.

"So, I can stick around, then?" said Nick, ducking his head to try to catch Justin's eyes. "You don't need me to fuck off again, then? And we can talk a little while your dancers, uh, dance?"

"I have to *watch* my dancers dance," Justin said, watching the group as they positioned themselves around the stage. "They've been fuckin' up the bridge, and Alex asked me for some time." He tipped his head at the choreographer, standing with his arms crossed closer to the stage. "You can talk all you want, but I can't promise I'll be paying too close attention. Something on your mind?"

Nick shrugged and wasn't even sure if Justin saw. "Always got something on my mind," he said. "Like you, for instance, who are on my mind quite a bit. Especially since you didn't come by my room this morning like you said you were going to, then yelled at me to get the fuck out of your way when I caught up with you, and now won't even look at me or acknowledge that you were eavesdropping on my conversation."

"I wasn't eavesdropping," Justin objected distantly. "I can't help it if your boyfriend's got a big mouth that he exercises without paying attention to who's around him. And this morning I had a phone interview that got rescheduled last minute. Funny how I didn't realize you were my wife and needed to be notified of these things." He finally glanced at Nick, one eyebrow raised, his mouth twisted.

"No one likes to be blown off," said Nick, shrugging at him again. "It's no wonder you have no friends, with people skills like that. And it's *real* funny you calling Jimmy my boyfriend when what you were listening to him talk about was how he was jealous that I was *with you*."

"I don't need, friends, I have *employees*," Justin said, teeth bared in a grin, eyes finally showing anger. "I told you when you got here that I was gonna be busy, that the tour was the most important thing, and you were fine with that. It's not blowing you off if I give you fair warning and you know it'll happen." He tossed off a shrug of his own. "No reason for him to be jealous, anyway, there's no ring on your finger."

"I'm not going to do anything with him, Justin, and you know that," said Nick tightly, though he was beginning to rethink that decision. "You don't need friends? My ass you don't need friends. Justin, what's *wrong* with you, anyway? What the hell happened to you that you turned into such an asshole?"

That actually seemed to startle Justin a little. "I was being kind of sarcastic there. I've got Trace, and, and Lance, and some other people, I've got friends. Whatever. There's nothing wrong with me, I'm just busy, is all." There was no trace of the Justin who would occasionally relax, and even smile genuinely and play a little with Nick when they were alone in bed together. "Hey, Alex." He grinned at the choreographer who was walking up to them, grinning and slapping his shoulder. "That looked a shitload better, man."

Nick hung back, anticipating some kind of smackdown if he tried to interrupt this. And hated that he had to cater to these moods of Justin because, in the end, he did respect that Justin was working and some things, at least, he did need to take care of. So he gave Alex a little wave and tried to look like he was not at all emotionally invested in being there.

Alex didn't seem to be paying him much attention anyway. "It oughta, after all the work we put into it," said Alex. "You want to run through it a few more times?"

"Yeah, man," Justin beamed at him, and Alex preened a little under that look. "Good work. Run through twice more, then give 'em the rest of the day off. Y'all have earned it, just stay out of trouble." He shared a chuckle with the choreographer, shook his hand again and sent him off. Then Justin slanted a sideways look at Nick. "You were saying?"

"That was very nice of you, to give them the rest of the day off," said Nick, nodding his head, still backed a step or two away from where he'd been before. "I thought you were going to yell at them again, like you've done every other day. Because we all know how much fun it is to be yelled at when we're doing the best we can. I'm sure you remember."

"Every other day, they were fucking it up," Justin explained slowly, as if to a small child. "They clearly weren't doing the best they could, since they're nailing it now. They do it right, they get the day off, that's the way it works. No one cuts *me* any slack with this shit, it's the way the business works, and they know that." He shook his head. "Listen, I gotta get back to my room to get these stitches looked at. You can come if you want."

Nick would come, of course he would come. He still took whatever time he could get, even though it -- and the way it was becoming clear to him other people saw it -- was making him feel more than a little bit pathetic. "Sometimes it's not about being perfect, Justin," he said as he followed him. "Sometimes it's about feeling it. And yelling at people isn't a great motivator."

"I don't have time for them to feel it," Justin answered, actually waiting for Nick to catch up and walk beside him, scrubbing his face with his hands and sighing. "Look, I'm not trying to be an asshole here, they know that. I'm not trying to be an asshole to you either, but I just can't, I'm getting pulled in too many directions. I just don't have enough *time* left. But it's still good to have you around."

Nick smiled and relaxed, and even touched Justin's arm for a moment when no one was looking. "Well, maybe that's why I'm here," he said. "To help you work through that stress without taking it out on those lovely boys you have dancing with you. Not to mention everyone else. You're an awesome guy, Justin. Everyone should get to see that."

Justin rolled his eyes a little, but didn't brush Nick's hand away like he might have. "The lovely boys have leather for skin, they can take it. Anyone else, well, that's their lookout, but I think they'd probably argue the awesome guy thing. Even I hate myself most of the time, I can't blame them." He softened the words with a wry grin and a shrug, as he hit the elevator button and tugged up the waist of his too-big pants.

"You shouldn't hate yourself," said Nick quietly when they were more or less alone. As alone as they ever were, except in bed. "If you don't like things, you can always change them. And I'm not going all shrink on you when I say that, I just... know. You know? I *know*."

Justin just smiled at him, and moved up against him as the elevator doors slid shut. "I missed my blow job this morning," he murmured, hand flat against Nick's chest, palming a nipple. "I think, as my official blowjob administrator, you should fix that. I've only got about twenty minutes free right now, but if we hurry I think we could probably make 'em count."

Nick blinked back his surprise at the change of mood -- something he hadn't yet learned how to anticipate, Justin was so unpredictable. There had to be a pattern to it, but Nick hadn't figured out just what. "But the doctor..." he said, then, "Fuck it. Yes. Do we have to wait to get back to your room or can we do it right here?" It was Justin's own damn fault he'd missed the blowjob, but Nick wasn't going to pass up a second chance. Even if he did have more serious things on his mind.

"I think we can wait," Justin said, with a grin that turned wicked. "I mean, y'never know who's gonna be walking onto one of these things, and plus, cameras." He slid up against Nick, though, pressing his hips forward, slipping a thigh between Nick's. "That doesn't mean we can't get a little taste first. Right?" He bent in and nipped playfully at Nick's jaw, licking after the sting of teeth.

"Because the cameras won't care about *this*, of course," murmured Nick, even as he caught Justin's chin and kissed him square on the lips. Speaking of wanting a taste. "How are you always so *hot*? It's like magic."

"It's my *job*," Justin chuckled at him, licking at his lips until they opened, then sweeping his tongue inside to really taste. Nick's world narrowed down to the sweet taste of Justin's mouth--he'd been drinking soda again--and the press of big hands at his waist as Justin melted into him, going boneless and shivery. "Not as hot as you, though," Justin muttered.

"I'm not a job, though," said Nick, brushing his lips against Justin's, glowing a little from the compliment. Justin didn't hand them out easily. "You can just be you, with me, because I'm your..." Nick hesitated before coming up with, "buddy. And you're still, like, scorching."

"No, you're a *perk*," Justin laughed, circling his hips against Nick in a little shimmy that had them both gasping. "Buddy. God. Don't call me that, that's Joey's big sarcastic insulting word. Totally kills the mood." The elevator door dinged open, and Justin stepped smoothly away, straightening his shirt and nodding to the security guard without so much as a blush. "Okay, I think the dressing room should be more than private enough, yeah?"

"That's about as private as it gets for you," agreed Nick, holding Justin's wrist for a moment before letting go. "I'm not going to be just a *perk*, though. I'm just gonna stick with friend, man. With benefits. Obviously. How far to that dressing room again?"

"About ten feet," Justin estimated, walking backwards, grinning, towing Nick along by the wrist *he'd* grabbed. "I like the benefits, boy, I like those a lot. I figure you're kind of a perk, though, you come out of the blue like this to make this tour a lot better, just in time, too."

"I'm glad I'm making it better," said Nick, starting to push as Justin pulled, ready to drop to his knees as soon as the door was closed. "Because it would be just terrible if all that great sex and my charming company was making it worse. Now in, in, in, hurry, don't trip."

"Charming," Justin snorted, but kicked the door shut after them and spun, putting his back to the door and pressing Nick down, hands on his shoulders. "God, I been thinking about this since yesterday," he breathed. "So fucking distracting. I'm gonna have to kick you off to go home soon, you keep being this distracting."

"You know you won't," said Nick confidently, unzipping him and pulling him out, hot and hard. "You get none of *this* when I'm gone." And he licked him, right from root to tip, nose nestled for a moment right inside Justin's pants. "And you'd miss it too much. You'd miss *me* too much. You can admit it."

Justin, lips pressed tightly together, just shook his head minutely and tangled his fingers into Nick's hair. Nick palmed his hipbones, so narrow that Nick's fingers almost met, and breathed on him, drinking in the squeak that Justin made, the way his body jumped. "Don't tease," Justin begged softly. "Not today, please..."

"It's not teasing," whispered Nick, looking up at him in surprise for just a moment. But Justin looked so desperate he didn't waste any more time with anything other than taking Justin into his mouth, and sucking and tonguing him as hard as Justin liked it.

Justin sighed out an "Aaaaahhhh," happy and frantic and needy all at once, and started thrusting gently into Nick's mouth. By now Nick was fully aware that Justin couldn't stop himself, and so he just relaxed and let Justin move, keeping steadying hands on Justin's hips. "Fuck," Justin whispered, voice shaking. "Fuck, your mouth, it's the best ever, I can't believe, Nick, Jesus," and then he was off and babbling, only some of his words coming out as anything recognizable.

Nick opened his throat as much as he could, licking the spots that came into contact with his tongue, breathing exclusively through his nose. Justin's sounds were hot, the way he moved was hot, everything they did together was hot enough to make Nick forget about everything else. Justin's hips were almost sharp as they pressed against Nick's hands, Justin thrusting again and again, deperate. Close.

Nick didn't know if it was from years of sharing space or not, but Justin usually came very quietly, with just a mewling little sound in the back of his throat. This time was no different, and Justin came with his cock so far down Nick's throat that Nick barely had to swallow at all. He was stiff and shuddering for a few endless seconds, and then slumped back against the door, fingers kneading into Nick's hair restlessly. "Fuckin' amazing, Carter, your mouth," he mumbled.

Nick carefully slid his mouth off, then swallowed a couple times just to clear himself all out. "Ain't nothing," he said, staying down there for a little while, liking the way Justin was touching him. "You just make me want to do it, you know?" Finally he stood up and gave Justin a little kiss on the corner of his mouth, no tongue. "Look at you, all relaxed now."

Justin hummed at him contentedly, looking at him with heavy, sated eyes. "Well, I can't say it's my least favorite way to affect someone," he finally answered lazily. "Any time, man, any time." He started sliding down the wall, bracing his hands against Nick's body until he was crouched on the floor. "Now it's my turn." He licked his lips and looked hungry as his hands started fumbling with buttons and zippers.

Nick hadn't been entirely sure that Justin was planning to reciprocate -- he didn't always, and especially not when he didn't have much time. "Oh," breathed Nick, and groped for something to brace him*self* against. "Yeah, okay." He finally leaned against the wall over Justin's head and tried to relax.

"Close your eyes and think of England," Justin teased him, just before the wet heat of his mouth closed around Nick. Still without much finesse or expertise, but with enthusiasm and determination and hunger to spare. He'd also figured out how to deepthroat at some point, and hummed around Nick's cock as he took it deep, hands pulling Nick's hips forward to him.

Nick still didn't dare try too much with him, and it was always in the back of his mind to be careful, but it was getting easier to start letting go a little. Especially when Justin started humming like a pro down there. His breath caught and he curled one of his hands into a fist, knuckles pressing into the wall.

Justin's eyes flickered up and met his, deep indigo, before he closed them again and concentrated on what he was doing. His tongue finally got into it, and flicked around the shaft lightly, almost a tickle, before sliding his lips up and down, sucking hard, bobbing his head and collapsing down to his knees as he lost his balance.

Nick couldn't watch anymore, not after that, because if he did he wouldn't last. The sight of Justin Timberlake losing himself in giving Nick a blowjob was about as stimulating as it got. When he closed his eyes, though, he had to focus on the sensations, and that was almost as much right there. He might not have been watching, but he could imagine Justin's lips stretched over him, his hands and mouth and whole body working.

"Oh hell," he breathed, and struggled to last just a little bit longer, just a little bit longer, until he couldn't anymore.

Justin braced his thighs and held his weight and swallowed deep and hard when Nick trembled and bent, coming hard enough to see stars, feeling that delicious heat spread through his hips and trickle up his spine. When Nick opened his eyes, Justin was still there, licking him lightly, then drawing back and wiping his mouth. There wasn't any sign of smugness on his face this time, though, and when he tipped his head back and met Nick's eyes, he almost looked sad.

"Oughtta do that more often," he said quietly. "You look good all coming apart like that."

Nick smiled at him and reached for his shoulder, tugging him up for a kiss. "Yeah, we really oughta," he agreed softly, "what with how much the both of us like it and all. Got time to sit down and relax with me for a bit, maybe?"

"Yeah," Justin sagged against him. "Like ten minutes, the doctor should be here around then, but till then I got nothing to do." Nick sometimes wondered if Justin had some kind of computer in his head, his time was so strictly regimented and he always seemed to know exactly how much time he had. Justin leaned in for another long kiss, this one quiet and undemanding, a silent request for affection.

"How's the ear feeling anyway?" asked Nick, touching the rim of it gently as he manoeuvered them to a sofa. "Just about ready to get those stitches out, you think?" He curled around him when they sat down, and kissed Justin's neck. "It's looking better."

"It still hurts," Justin admitted, leaning back into Nick's touch with a little sigh. "Hopefully the stitches come out soon, cause they itch. And that's the side I sleep on, so doubly a pain in the ass. Hopefully they'll be out before I head back to the states." He twisted a little to look at Nick. "Which is in a couple of days, I mean, that's when we go. And you'll probably be going home then, right?"

Nick shrugged. "Well, not exactly," he confessed, stroking Justin's hair. "I mean, I'll have to take off to make a couple of meetings, and get some work done in the studio, but mostly I figured I'd stick around with you. It's been working out so far, right? So why mess with a good thing."

"Mm-hmm," Justin pushed his head back against Nick's hand. "See, though, I kinda wasn't kidding about the distracting thing. I missed four meetings this week because of you, and I've only been to the gym three days." He looked back at Nick seriously. "It's been cool having you here, man, but I know you got stuff to do, and I got stuff to do. I can see you when I hit Florida, July sometime, right? We can hang out."

Nick blinked at him a few times, then shook his head. "Justin, why do you always do this after we have sex? Can't you just enjoy it for once, without trying to work out the fastest way to get me away from you as soon as you come? Because I've got to tell you, it's pretty much shit on the ego."

"I don't, always," Justin protested. "It's not, like...I am enjoying it. It's got nothing to do with you. It's normal to try to figure stuff like this out when I'm sitting right here with you, I mean, you're right there, I can talk to you, no one else is around. It's got nothing to do with sex." He shook his head. "See, you mess up my head so I can't even think. Sure sign it's time to get my focus back."

"You know it's not, Justin," sighed Nick, kissing his neck again. "I just want to just be with you and be comfortable sometimes, and not worry about how you're going to try to get rid of me THIS time. I just don't see what there is to figure out. I haven't been, like, actively trying to get you to miss things since that first day, when you really needed it, except that one thing that you *really* didn't need to be doing and you admitted that to me after. I don't think I'm in the way. And we're *good* together, Justin, I don't know why you wouldn't want me around."

Justin tilted his head, giving Nick's mouth better access, and relaxed a little as he started to speak again. "I think you're right, we should maybe talk about this later, when we haven't just 'been good together.'" His mouth curled in a little smile. "I'm not really trying to get rid of you, at least not at the moment. Or at all. But we'll talk about it later." He rubbed his fingers gently over the thin skin on Nick's wrist. "Are you having a good time? When you're not dealing with me?"

"Later, when we have more than ten minutes to talk about things," agreed Nick, stroking his arm now, wishing they had that time now. "I love being here with you, even when you're cranky. I wouldn't stick around if I didn't, Justin. I LIKE you."

"You're crazy," Justin told him simply, still with that little smile. "Totally freakin' insane, you know that? But you just go ahead and like me, I guess, and I do like you too, y'know. Even if you're fit for the looney bin. Having you here's been a lot of fun." He shook himself a little, like a dog, and patted Nick's hip. "You coming out tonight with us?"

"I'm not the one who's nuts," NIck reminded him, already nodding. "Yeah, course I'm coming out with you. You think I'd pass up a chance to see you work that body? Not very likely, Justin, not very likely at all. Besides, I think you like it when I watch."

"Who, me?" Justin blinked at him innocently, then grinned. "Plus, I know you're watching the show backstage most nights, you get to see me work it all the time. We don't get to dance together much, is all, so I dunno. You didn't come with us last time." He shrugged a little, like he didn't care one way or the other.

"You didn't want me to," said Nick, shivering a little and hoping Justin didn't notice. "Plus, you know. Love to watch you, don't so much like to see you get mauled. By anyone other than me, that is." Then he was grinning again, because they had maybe five minutes left and that wasn't enough time to even start to get into anything. Even though there were so many things Nick wanted to get into. "I'll definitely be there tonight, and you'll need those big bodyguards of yours just to keep ME off you."

Justin grinned back at him, and went limp, letting Nick take most of his weight and draping one arm along Nick's side. "I'll tell 'em to be on the lookout. Some big crazy blond dude is stalking me, I'll tell them, you gotta watch out for him. Tattoos, hasn't shaved in a while, he totally looks dangerous, doesn't wanna see me dancing with anybody but him. Only they're not letting me out of VIP any more, anyway, so you don't have to worry." Justin sounded mildly regretful about that.

Nick breathed an inward sigh of relief. "Oh good," he said, "so I really will get to grind up against you for a while without it being a tabloid moment. Really definitely gonna be there, then. Because you know how much I like to get my hands all over your body. When we're there, and after we come back, too..." He gave Justin a wink and licked his lips and was actually looking forward to it. "That's the only place I'm really dangerous."

Justin slapped playfully at his hands. "No groping in public, Carter, you know the rules. Shit, it's bad enough you sleep in here as much as you do." He moved restlessly against Nick. "Once we get back it's a different story, but tomorrow I gotta make sure everything's packed for shipping overseas. It's going to be a seriously crazy few days. My mom and Trace are already over there setting up the first US leg."

"Yeah, it's a big trip," agreed Nick, smoothing Justin's hair, just holding him there with him for as long as he could. "Good thing you don't have to do much except make sure it happens. You're already so busy with all the other stuff." He found Justin's lips and kissed him softly for a long time. "I like sleeping with you. I know you like it too. You don't like to let go of me, when we're in bed together."

"Yeah, well," Justin sighed against his mouth, then kissed him back just as soft, just as long, his hands tight around Nick's upper arms, clinging and not letting go. "What we like isn't always good for us,huh? Or even if it is, it's not always something we get to have. But hey, right now is pretty cool." He dropped tiny kisses on Nick's nose, his chin, down the line of his jaw.

"We get to choose," said Nick, trying not to sigh himself that Justin still didn't get that. That his presence sometimes didn't seem to be helping at all. "We get to choose what we do, what we get to have. What good's a life if you're not making yourself happy, anyway?"

"My thoughts exactly," Justin murmured, licking at his earlobe. He caught the stud of Nick's earring between his teeth, and tugged on it infinitely gently, and then froze as a sound intruded. It sounded like a cough, and Justin let go and whipped around, to see an amused-looking woman standing just inside the door, medical bag in hand.

"Your ear," she said apologetically, and Justin nodded, stiff and tight-lipped, untangling himself from Nick.

Nick did feel faintly embarrassed, but not nearly as much as Justin seemed to be. "You, uh, want me to go?" he asked, straightening his shirt, hoping he wasn't too incriminatingly flushed. "I'm sure I could find somewhere else to be for a few minutes, however long it takes to get this stuff taken care of. I won't go far."

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea," Justin said evenly and expressionlessly, nodding a little and sitting down in a chair so the doctor could get to his ear. "Why don't you just go ahead and do whatever, I've gotta get back to the stage after this and run through the new steps anyway." He tipped his head at the doctor's urging, and Nick couldn't see his eyes.

"Well, I'll meet you there, then," said Nick, but Justin wasn't answering. It was like he'd already completely tuned Nick out, like they hadn't been making out just a minute ago. "Okay then. Bye." He backed out of the room, and never did get a goodbye in return. "Goddam fuck," he muttered, and stalked down the hall, looking for somewhere to be. Everyone was busy, seemed like, and not doing anything Nick really wanted to participate in. His best bet was just to find someplace quiet, and hope that Justin was still talking to him when he came back out of the dressing room. Or maybe not; Nick wasn't all that sure he wanted to talk to *him*.

"Carter!" Joey's voice was tinny from coming overseas, but was still warm. "Baby, you made the papers stateside, Carter And Timberlake In Club Brawl. Good work, good work, there were even pictures. How you doing over there? How's Justin?" Joey's voice went eager on that last question, like he was desperate for news.

"Well, he's still alive, so that's a good thing, right?" said Nick, sitting down against a wall and curling into himself, making himself as invisible as a guy of his size could be. "Sorry, sorry, I just... I don't even know, Joey. I'm pretty good, though. No damage in the... they're calling it a brawl? That's funny. More like a bunch of horny women trying to get it on with Timberlake at the same time."

Joey laughed. "Well, that's nothing you ain't seen before, right? The paper made it sound like there was blood on the walls, man. I figured that wasn't true, since we hadn't heard from Lynn, but these days you never know." He was quiet for a long moment. "Pretty good is pretty good, right? I mean, you're getting along okay. You and J."

"Sometimes," said Nick honestly. "Sometimes we're getting along. Mostly when we're fucking. And sometimes he's telling me to get the fuck out of his way, But I'm still here. Justin's busy getting his stitches looked at and... shit, Joey, I don't even know if I'm doing any good here at all. Seriously. I don't want to get your hopes up."

"Sorry," Joey said almost cheerfully, "too late. You've already lasted longer than any of us have. 'Course we weren't giving him sex, but still. If you're still there, if he hasn't made himself so obnoxious that you've left, you've gotta be doing some good. Or maybe you're just supernaturally tolerant, I dunno, but anyway I'm glad you're hanging in there."

"I think supernatural tolerance has something to do with it," admitted Nick. "He treats me like shit and I feel kinda pathetic a lot. But I, like, already committed myself to it, and so I'm still here. Cause I feel like if I give up, it would be worse than me never having come in the first place, you know? What a fucking mess."

"Hey, listen," Joey said, sounding hesitant. "Look, if it's making you unhappy to be there, don't stay. You can't sacrifice your happiness, man, I know how hard you worked to get there. Seriously. Don't just stay cause you're a stubborn little bastard, a'right? And don't let him treat you like shit! He never used to be like that with people, I can't fuckin' figure out what went wrong."

"Yeah, well, neither can I," sighed Nick. "Don't worry, Joey, I know what I'm doing. I'm still all right, and I call up my therapist when I'm not, and it's all good. I am a stubborn bastard, but I chose to be here and I'm not ready to leave yet. I just want him to be okay, you know? I want him to not be looking for ways to get rid of me while we're still sex-sweaty. Something's wrong and I want to fix it, cause when he smiles -- like, for real? -- wow, you know it's all worth it."

"Yeah," Joey said wistfully, "I haven't seen that smile in a long time. I can't believe he's rude enough to try to get you out right after sex, but...it makes sense, y'know? He probably gets lots of soft squooshy feeling for you, and that's the most reliable trigger these days. I'm so fucking worried about him, Nick. He used to be such a romantic, y'know? No sex without love. Now he's the opposite, no love at all."

"Yeah, tell me about it," muttered Nick, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, sometimes... sometimes when we're alone? He'll be all affectionate, he'll just curl up against me and let me pet him and hold him and stuff. And it's just the sweetest thing. He's maybe the sexiest fucker I know, too. But other times? He's just... cold. And fuck, I think I'm really falling for him, too. So. Yeah. It's kinda messy over here, but it's something. I don't know what else to tell you."

"I don't know what to tell you either, 'cept that if you need anything give me a call. Justin doesn't know it, but me and JC are paying half his security, so they do what WE say, not him. Also, they all know you're our man, so, y'know. Maybe that'll help." Joey sighed. "That cold thing, that's what finally broke Chris. Don't fall too hard, kiddo, cause he's a long way from sane and I can't tell what's going on in his head. If he falls for you back? You'll know. He'll have you on a plane to Florida so fast your head'll spin."

"Dude, I adore security, feels like they're *all* on my side. I don't think anyone's missing how bad he's looking these days. Like, not unhot bad. Just bad." He bumped his head back against the wall. The mild sting was almost pleasant. "He's not gonna fall for me, so don't worry about that. He's just having fun, I think. He's trying to kick me off the tour when we're back in the states in a couple days but I told him I'm sticking around. Then we made out for a while, so I think that's still the plan. For now."

Joey made a little dissenting sound. "Yeah, no. If he wasn't afraid of falling for you, he wouldn't be trying to kick you off the tour. He'd be happily enjoying the sex and treating you like shit without a qualm. As it is, the fact that he's trying to get rid of you is actually kind of a good sign. Good and bad, since it makes him more likely to seriously send you home."

"I don't *want* him to send me home," protested Nick. "I'm not going to LET him send me home. And seriously, Joey, I should say, I should warn you. I'm, like, pretty close to blowing and, like, having a serious conversation with him. I'm not sure how much more of the stone wall I can take without saying something other than 'Wanna have sex now?' which is effective, but doesn't really do much to solve the problem, I think. But talking about it just makes him shut down even more. Bastard. Why couldn't he be easy, anyway? Why can't I ever fall for anyone easy?"

"Guys have been asking themselves that since, like, the first people fell in love, I bet," Joey chuckled a little. "I think he probably needs to have a serious conversation about it, but I honestly dunno what'll work. He's paying that therapist a lot, but Justin's such a good actor he's probably got him thinking Justin's just fine, if a little tired. Fuck." Joey sighed again. "Well, kid, even with all that, you're still doing a better job than any of us did. I mean, you're still speaking to each other, at least. Um. Has he...he hasn't, like, been hanging out on high balconies or anything lately, has he?"

Nick shook his head as he thought about it. "I don't think so, Joey," he said finally. "Except for that... except for that one night at the club, that made the papers, there hasn't been anything I can think of. He's been a little diva bitch a lot, but nothing, like, that self destructive. Except..." Except for what Justin had said to him earlier, but Nick wasn't sure that was something he should be sharing when he didn't know what it meant. "I haven't always been there with him, but I've tried. Believe me, I've tried."

"Thank you for that," Joey said sincerely. "I appreciate it, man. I just, until he settles down a little, it's pretty scary. The diva bitch thing, that's normal, well, sort of. Not scary like the blankness. But, y'know, again, don't kill yourself following him around. It's not your life, and we've got more security than you can shake a stick at watching him. As much as we can. I'm hoping you're making him happy, and that's the most I can hope for."

"Sometimes," said Nick quietly. "Sometimes I think I make him happy. So that's okay, I think." Making sure Nick himself didn't become miserable in the process, though, was a lot easier said than done. And the more he thought about the situation, the sadder he got. A call to his therapist was probably long overdue, at this point. He *had* worked hard to get where he was, and damned if he was going to lose it. "You should... have you called him? Do you guys talk, like, at all?"

There was a long pause. "Justin doesn't take our calls," Joey answered quietly. "Not anymore, from any of us. We know he's coming to Challenge for the Children because his publicist confirmed it. We've all had it out with him, except Lance, because Lance doesn't like confronting Justin with anything. Justin won't take his calls, but at least he'll leave him voicemail messages in return." Joey's voice firmed up then. "And he's still talking to you."

"Yeah, I guess he is," said Nick quietly, biting his lip for a moment. "Behold the power of blowjobs, and all that. I'm sorry, Joey, I really am. I don't know what I'd do if my guys... like, we go a long time without talking sometimes, but it's never malicious. I don't know what's wrong with him, but I'm trying to figure it out."

"I wish you the best of luck," Joey said sincerely. "When you do, let me know, okay? Because I'm trying--we all are--trying really hard to keep loving him. Not that we could stop, really, but it's not the same thing, when it's like this. You know what I mean. Chris sends props, by the way, and thinks you're the 'shiznit,' his words not mine. And remember, you need to bail, you bail, no shame, no game, a'right?"

"I don't want to bail," said Nick firmly. "I can take what he's dishing out. I can. It's not gonna, like, break me or something, And tell Kirkpatrick he can call me himself sometimes, you know? It's not like he's all up and busy these days." Nick was smiling into the phone again, and he hoped Joey was, too. "He might like to hear himself, you know, how things are. Anyway, okay, you gotta go, I gotta go, doctor should be just about done with Justin and I'm not gonna let him slip away. Talk to you soon?"

"I'll give Chris your number," Joey promised, chuckling. "I'm sure he'll be delighted to call you and bug the everloving crap out of you, long distance no less. And you stay in touch, kid, anything changes or you need anything, I'm only a phone call away. Reach out and touch someone, baby, all right? Let us know what's what, and take care of you."

"I will, Joey, I will. I'll stop slacking about calling and let you know everything that's going on before you see it in the papers, at least. And if Justin goes through an entire day being happy, you'll be the first to know. Or the second, after me, anyway. Bye!" Nick put the phone away again after Joey said his good-bye, and debated whether or not to show up back at Justin's dressing room or not. He decided that the stage would be a better choice, all things considered, and Justin was probably already out there anyway.

"Nicky!" Jimmy came around the corner, towel around his neck, and hurried up to him. "Man, why didn't you tell me? We could've planned a party or something, I mean, we're all gonna miss you so much." He wiped an imaginary tear, but looked genuinely sad. "It's been so great having you around. Dunno what we're gonna do for fun without you."

"Excuse me?" said Nick, looking past him but naturally not seeing anyone or anything. "Jimmy, what the hell are you talking about, I'm not going anywhere. So, you know, no need to miss me. Are you all finished rehearsing for the day for real? I was just gonna go back out there and catch up with Justin..."

"But Justin said you're leaving the tour," Jimmy said, puzzled. "He said you're flying out tomorrow, or maybe even tonight. I mean, not that I'm not happy you're staying or whatever, but you might want to talk to--" He broke off, and bit his lip. "Um. You might want to talk to Justin, huh?"

"Justin Timberlake is a fucking asshole," muttered Nick, shaking his head. "Why would he...? We weren't even finished talking about it, and he goes and tells people that. I should hit him in the head or something. Stupid fucking selfish asshole. Why did I fucking fall for him anyway, huh? Fuck."

Jimmy shrugged, big brown eyes even wider with concern. "I guess...maybe it was a misunderstanding? Did he maybe think..." he broke off and shrugged again. "Probably not, huh? But it seemed like it might be an explanation. You want to borrow my boyfriend-hitting-stick? It works real well on mules, too." He petted Nick's arm gently. "It'll work out."

Easy for him to say. "It's nothing anyway," said Nick, trying to shrug it off. Trying to pretend like it was no big deal to him. "I knew what I was to him and all. Just kinda wish we'd had it out before he decided to tell everyone and their dog that I was gonna be gone. He was never my boyfriend anyway, you know? He never thought of himself that way, he never would."

"Oh, honey." Jimmy tugged his arm until Nick let himself be hugged, though he was still feeling stiff and numb. Jimmy just threw arms around him and squeezed, though, only letting to to peer closely into Nick's face. "Baby, you listen to me. Don't let that boy get away with this, you understand? He's so damn selfish I bet he didn't even think about you when he said what he did. You should march in there and have it out, just like you want, and make sure he knows *just* how you feel."

"Believe me, I'm not going to go quietly," Nick assured him, quiet but fierce. "I'm just mad right now." Then, because it wasn't like Jimmy didn't already know. "Hurt and mad and he is SUCH a fucking jerk, you know? Besides, that's personal, the only reason to make an announcement is to make it harder for me to get out of it. Fucker." Jimmy was still holding him, and Nick just let him. It felt real nice. "I'd do something. I don't know what, but I'll do something."

"Well, yelling at him might be cathartic. That stick's still on offer," Jimmy suggested with a quick flash of humor, stroking his back. "He is a jerk, and I bet he's a desperate jerk too, all going public like that. Did he suggest you leave before, and you shot him down? Maybe he knows you won't go quietly, so he's stacking his bets." He gave Nick one last pat, and stepped away. "Talk to him now, while you still got a good head of steam. Maybe that'll get through to him."

"Well, he's right, I *won't* go quietly," said Nick, grunting so he wouldn't hit something. "He's in with people right now, I can't yell the way I want to. He'd just... stone wall, you know? You know how he gets. He can be all cuddly and happy in private, but the moment he remembers he's supossed to be a big hotshot prick, he closes down."

"So drag him off," Jimmy shrugged. "March in there, grab an ear, and get him somewhere private. You're bigger than he is, y'know, and...well, okay, that might upset security." He chewed a thumb, eyes sad, watching Nick closely. "So, when? You know he's going to avoid you like the plague. What are you gonna do?"

"I don't know, Jimmy," he said, and sighed heavily. "I've got a feeling I've handled this whole damn thing wrong, you know? Like, what do I know about him anyway? He's nothing like me. I don't know what made me think I could understand him and maybe make things better for him. At least the sex was fantastic, so there's that."

"Hey, hey!" Jimmy smacked him lightly right in the middle of his chest. "None of this defeatest past-tenseness from you, mister! You turned that boy around...okay, maybe not 180 degrees, but close to 90. You made him human again, which I never thought I'd see, and I think you get him a lot more than you're giving yourself credit for. Now, are you gonna let him run you off like a stray cat, or are you gonna come back to my place, drink a lot, call him tons of nasty names, and then put up some kind of fight?"

"Yes, that," said Nick, giving him a grin that was only partly forced. "Believe me, Jimmy, I'm not giving up. I just don't know what the fuck I'm doing. Like... I'm surprised he's even okay at all with you guys knowing about us, because the boy is so closeted I'd be surprised if there was even a crack of light creeping in. He has a lot of issues, and that's probably the least of them. Don't even know where to start, man, don't even know where to start. So... you promised me a drink?"

"I'd always kinda suspected," Jimmy agreed, leading him off by the elbow. "I mean, no straight man is that careful about his shoes. But I'm surprised he let us know, too, except for the fact that he knows most of us don't care, and we've all signed the most surreal nondisclosure agreements you've ever seen." He swung a left and marched Nick right out of the building, calling a cab and giving it directions to the hotel. "I think you need a little space," he explained. "And Justin needs to miss you. I'm so clever. You should thank me." He leered cheerfully at Nick.

"I'll thank you when I have a drink in my hand," teased Nick, but it really was a relief to be away from the building. Because he *had* been close to just running out and telling Justin off, and that would've fucked everything up to the point where Nick might not be able to fix it. Fighting in private, that was one thing. In public? That might be something Justin considered unforgivable. "I was his first, more or less. I. Um. Don't know if you knew that part."

Jimmy gave him a sympathetic look, even as he shook his head slowly. "No, but I could've guessed that too. He's *so* possessive of you, honey, and so completely unwilling to admit it even to himself. The first boyfriend is always a bit of a mindfuck, especially for someone like Justin. Whose mind was already fucked, thanks so much." He tossed a bill at the driver and towed Nick inside, like a small determined dog, heading straight for the floor where the dancers and stagehands were staying.

"I'm not his boyfriend, remember?" Nick reminded him. He tried not to be bitter about it; he'd always known that was the way it was. "I don't know what I am to him, but it's not that. And I know he's twelve kinds of fucked up, but I'd kind of hoped that I was making it better, not worse. Where's your room?"

"You two are SO boyfriends," Jimmy answered, steering him without answering the question. "Nobody who isn't dating fights like this, baby, trust me. And apart form Justin's scary little moments of insanity, he's doing much better since you're here." He shoved open a door, revealing a room covered in sweats, leotards, dance shoes, wraps, ice packs, and all the other accesssories of a dancer. He waved a hand at the cluttered couch, and headed straight for the cooler.

Nick gently nudged a few things out of the way with his feet on the way over. "Well, it would probably not be in your best interest to suggest to Justin that we're -- or we were, I'm not sure -- boyfriends. The idea seems to scare the shit out of him. Anything that's not explicity on that stupid schedule of his freaks him out, I think. Like, he doesn't even connect anymore. With people. He keeps them all away. Except maybe his mother, and even there I'm not convinced these days. How did I get myself into this, again?"

"Timberlake's hot ass and sweet little mouth?" Jimmy suggested, pouring alcohol into cups. "I have no idea, boychick. He's so rigidly controlled about most things these days it's been a treat watching you get under his skin. But you're right about the schedule, and he doesn't think past it, either. When JC was here he suggested something about a charity concert after Justin's tour, and Justin just smiled this weird little smile and said he'd give at the office, and wouldn't commit to the date. Wouldn't even commit to when he'd be back in LA."

Nick frowned, and lifted his hand to chew at a hangnail. "I wish he'd talk to me," he said finally. It was easy to talk about this stuff with Jimmy, and he knew what he said would be safe. Even the worst gossips know when things aren't gossip fodder. "He drops hints sometimes, like I'm supposed to figure it all out myself, but I'm not good at that. I think maybe he wants me to understand, but I can't, until he tells me things."

"I don't think he'll tell you anything till you make him," Jimmy offered, handing him a cup that seemed to hold mostly vodka. "He's getting off on this whole thing in some weird way. Like pushing everyone away is something he's justified so hard he's convinced himself it's noble, or good, or something. He probably *wants* to talk to you, if he's dropping hints, but he won't. Not Justin."

"No, not Justin," agreed Nick, taking a sip. He wasn't wrong about the vodka. "I just wish I got him, without needing him to be blatant. You ever feel like that? Like you wish you were totally smarter, so you could just get things? Probably not, you seem like a pretty sharp guy. But that's how I feel around Justin a lot. Like I'm supposed to be this mastermind sleuth, who he's counting on to save him, but I don't know how. Either that, or he really doesn't like me much."

"Noooo," Jimmy said hesitantly, flopping down beside Nick with his own drink. "I think he likes you a whole lot. But I know what you mean, about wanting to be a mastermind. The thing is, though, even if you were the head of Mensa you wouldn't be able to tell what someone was thinking unless they wanted you to. You can't save him if he doesn't want to be saved, y'know?" He tilted his head at Nick. "Maybe the first step is getting him to want saving. Then you can worry about that part."

"I haven't really been able to manage that part yet, man," said Nick, sighing and drinking more vodka. Good vodka. "About making him want anything, I think. Except to get fucked, a lot. And even then... well, you don't want to be hearing this, do you. It's a mess. I told you it was a mess. This is a great drink, thanks."

"My pleasure." Jimmy waved his own glass in the air. Nick thought it had a whole lot less alcohol in it than Nick's did, and was going to object, but then remembered that Jimmy had to be dancing in three hours. "Getting fucked is a beautiful thing, man, and if he wants it that much--hey, if he wants *anything* that much--it's a big step up from the robot he's been acting like. Also, baby, the hints you mentioned him dropping? Those are a great sign. And they way he watches you when you're not paying attention, like he's scared you're just gonna disappear." Jimmy nodded at him wisely. "I think you're further along than you think."

"He watches me?" said Nick quietly, trying to meet Jimmy's eyes. "Really? I didn't know that. Except for that time at the club, when he was doing his best to be a weirdly jealous ass. That's... that's really nice. That makes me feel good. Of course, he's still trying to send me away. So it's not all hearts and roses. Can I have another?"

"Sure." Jimmy reached, and poured a healthy dollop of vodka into Nick's glass, topped off with a splash of orange juice. He met Nick's eyes frankly. "He doesn't watch you all the time, but when he does, and you happen to catch the moment, it's pretty fuckin' intense. It's usually just a second or two, before he turns away, but I've seen it a few times. I'm freakishly clever and observant, though, as I'm sure you know." He toasted Nick with his glass.

"Plus, Justin's a lot of fun to look at," admitted Nick, returning the toast before drinking down. "Even if he's... okay dude, tell me honestly. Am I a fucking idiot? Am I dumb to do this, because no amount of good sex is worth what I go through with him? Just hit me with it, I can take it, I need to hear. I know I'm dumb, I just need to know if I'm dumb about THIS."

"Eh, you're not dumb, I don't think," Jimmy shook his head thoughtfully. "Maybe a little undereducated, but hey, join the club, y'know? And I don't think you're an idiot about J, either, though *I* wouldn't do it. Mostly 'cause I don't like him as much as you do." He tipped more vodka into Nick's cup. "You think he's worth saving? That if something turns around he could be the most amazing thing to ever hit your life? Then you're not an idiot for doing this."

"You didn't know him before," said Nick sadly, enjoying the vodka even more, the more he had of it. "He wasn't always like this, he really wasn't. Like, I don't know what's wrong. He was always a little self-centered and, like, neurotic, but this is so extreme it's, like, baffling. I don't know what happened to make him do this. I think he needs, like, help, more than I can give him, but I may be all he's got. You know? He makes me feel like an idiot sometimes, though. I hate that. Boys suck."

"He's got a therapist," Jimmy said thoughtfully. "I mean, it's on his schedule every other day between one and three. So he's seeing *someone*, anyway." He started flipping a quarter across his knuckles. "But generally, yeah, boys suck hard. Why would we want 'em if they didn't?" His grin twinkled at Nick. "If it's any comfort, I think you ARE helping. At least he's thinking about something besides himself."

"His therapist sucks," scowled Nick. "I've heard about his therapist, and it isn't doing one bit of good for him, as far as I can tell. And I don't think Justin wants it to. He used to be all about being self-aware, now it's like he's just a body with a job to do, and nothing that's inside him matters. It sucks! And not in the fun, pink-lips way that he does sometimes. I don't know what to do. But getting drunk seems like a good start."

"Just keep on...oh, what do I know? I'm just some dancing fag with big ears and too much gossip. But if I was you, I'd probably...kidnap him. For at least a couple of days. See if you can break through to him if he doesn't have any excuses to get away." Jimmy shrugged, still grinning a little. "We can plot it all out. You can hide out in my room, he'll know you're still here but it's not like there's anything he can do, and we'll be all 007 about it. It'll be fun!"

Nick laughed and threw back the rest of the drink. "Do you even know what kind of fit he pitched when I kidnapped him for, like, five hours? The guy freaks without his schedule to adhere to..." Which made the idea that much better. "Jimmy," he said, tugging him close, "you're a fucking genius." And he planted a long, wet kiss right on Jimmy's lips.

Jimmy's huge brown eyes went wide and startled for the split second it took before he was kissing Nick back enthusiastically, and his tongue was as talented as Nick had thought it might be. "Okay, okay," Jimmy murmured against his mouth, finally drawing back with almost tangible reluctance. "Okay. I deserve a fucking medal. Three medals. Lots and lots of medals, because I could eat you with a spoon, but I'm not going to, because you're mad and drunk right now." He stroked Nick's hair off his forehead with a sigh. "Also, I'm way to big a fucking genius to get between you and La Timberlake right now."

Nick sighed and tried to kiss him again, but Jimmy held firm. It looked like it took everything he had in him, but he did it. "I just... just for tonight?" he said softly. "I know you know everything about me and Justin and it's probably entirely UNfair to you, but..." He sighed. There was no good way to put it, even though his body craved the companionship and comfort that he knew Jimmy could give him. "But you want to, right? At least?"

Jimmy blinked at him like he wasn't speaking English, or like Jimmy couldn't understand it. "Honey, I ain't gonna fall in love with you, I was more worried about *your* delicate little insides," he finally got out. "In fact, if you want to use me for sex, please, please feel free." He leaned up against Nick, pressing the whole warm lithe length of himself close, and kissed Nick again. "Buddies?" He grinned at Nick, from extreme closeup. "Fucking? One night only, what you see is what you get?" He licked Nick's adam's apple. "And no telling, for your sake more than mine," he whispered finally.

"No telling," agreed Nick, relaxing again. No strings attached, nothing to get in the way of what he could admit privately -- and had probably already admitted to Jimmy -- were pretty strong feelings for Justin. It wasn't cheating if they weren't dating, it was just... comfort. It was just what he needed, to feel desirable, to feel like he had a friend. "But not because I'm embarassed about it, because you're incredibly hot and any guy would be really fucking lucky to have you. And I'm a little bit lucky, to get you just this once."

"Baby, shh," Jimmy laughed at him, his voice so fond that Nick almost started crying. "I'm the lucky one. Okay, we're both lucky, and we should really make the most of it, right? And have some fun, since that's what this should always be." His quick, clever small hands made their way under Nick's shirt, very different from Justin's bigger, heavier ones. Jimmy was short, and whipcord-fit where Justin was bony, and his skin was cinnamon-colored, and Nick resolved then and there to stop with the comparisons.

Another drink would probably help with that, but he was feeling pleasantly warm and buzzed, and he didn't want to be drunk for this. He was pretty sure it would be a wonderful treat, and he didn't want to miss any of it. It would be a nice change from Justin's enthusiastic, but still somewhat inexperienced and mechanical touches. Jimmy was experienced, and he was affectionate, and he understood what this was. And Nick couldn't ask for more.

"Take it off," he whispered, but Jimmy would do what Jimmy wanted to do, and Nick didn't want it any other way, right now.

"Impatient," Jimmy scolded him, still smiling as he trailed his fingers up Nick's chest before starting on his buttons. "You should know better than to rush the important things. It just takes all the fun out of it." He had Nick out of his shirt in seconds, though, and pushed him gently back to the couch. "Now you just sit back and relax and let me do the work, okay? That stressed look around your eyes is aging you *years*." He kissed Nick lightly, slipped him some tongue, and went to work on his pants. "Got any special requests?"

"Just be Jimmy," Nick murmured, and cheesy as it was, that was the thing he wanted most. Not a substitute, just a new experience. Just something really good, really nice. "And... let me be Nick. You can, uh, do what you're gonna do there cause I think I know where you're going and I like it like you wouldn't believe. But then lemme give some back, okay?"

"No, no," Jimmy said, in a high-pitched, goofy voice. "No, I'll never let you give me head, Nick Carter, how dare you I should slap your face!" He grinned up at Nick from where he'd slipped down between his thighs. "You silly queen. I'll be the last guy to stop you." He slid his hand into Nick's open fly, curling knowing fingers just right and making Nick arch and gasp.

He had all kinds of comebacks, one in particular about how he never said anything about it being head, but they were lost the moment Jimmy touched him. Cool, slim, strong fingers and he knew exactly what he was doing, even groping blindly inside Nick's pants. There was nothing Nick could say.

"There we go." There was a wealth of satisfaction in those words, and then deceptively slim arms pulled him down the couch and his pants were gone. Well, it probably took a few more steps than that, but since Jimmy never stopped touching him the whole time, Nick didn't care much about the timeline. Once they were skin to skin, Nick actually felt himself relax, especially once Jimmy ran his eyes over him and made a delighted, happy sound. "God, you are even more gorgeous than I thought. I really *do* want to eat you up. I don't suppose..." he sounded a little hesitant for the first time. "Do you bottom at all?"

Nick took a few moments to process the question through the haze of pleasure. "Do I... ? Oh!" He licked his lips and smiled. "Yeah," he said. "I do. And I gotta say, I've been missing it a little, since Justin."

"Wow, am I....totally and completely unsurprised," Jimmy snickered a little, shaking his head. "Poor you. Poor him, with the most incredible ass--don't shake your head at me, it IS, and I know from asses and would not lie to you--the most incredible ass I've ever seen in my life right there in front of him, and he doesn't even take advantage." Jimmy's fingertips skated across Nick's hipbones, and he leaned in for another long, sweet, hot kiss.

"I'm starting to kinda hope that you'll know exactly what to do with it," murmured Nick into the kiss, wrapping an arm around Jimmy and holding him there for a moment. "And you haven't even gotten a really good look at it yet."

"I have a few little ideas," Jimmy said modestly, eyes laughing at Nick. "I'm sure I'll be even more inspired once I get that good look. First things first, though." He wiggled in Nick's hold and slipped downward, smooth pretty dancer's body moving like silk, and gave Nick's cock a little hello kiss before turning his head and gnawing lightly on one hipbone.

"Oh," said Nick, and not quietly. He wasn't even sure at what, it all felt good. He let go completely, arms falling to his sides. "God, Jimmy, remind me why I wasn't with you in the first place?"

"I'm a commitment-phobic princess with a man in every port and a nasty gossip habit," Jimmy answered promptly. "Plus, I'm not really your type, except when it comes to this kind of thing, I guess." He licked his way up the shaft without warning, moving quick and experienced and then Nick was inside and Jimmy was sucking hard. His free hand dropped past Nick's balls, gave them a gentle fondle, and then headed further south.

That didn't need an answer either, thankfully, because Nick was in no shape to give one. Where Justin was tentative and thoughtful, Jimmy was quick and certain, running on instinct and experience. And Nick really was going to stop comparing them now, because who cared? "Jesus, Jimmy," he breathed, and tried to get more of himself inside Jimmy's mouth without thrusting or choking him.

Jimmy brought him to the edge and kept him there, shivering and panting and jerking his hips, and then took his mouth away, licking his lips and grinning, flushed himself. "Any more of that and there won't be a main event," he murmured, slipping a finger into Nick like it was the easiest, most natural thing in the world. Nick didn't even bother to wonder where he'd found the lube. Jimmy dropped gentle, soft kisses all around Nick's bellybutton as he rocked his hand, stretching slow and careful.

"I'm young, though!" said Nick, half a plea and half a protest. "I can go twice!" But there was no way he was wanting to dissuade Jimmy from doing exactly what he was already doing. Nick could already imagine what it was going to feel like, what it was going to be like. And all he wanted was to be taken like that, to be desired that deeply.

"But I don't want to wait," Jimmy answered reasonably enough, though his eyes were glittering with heat. "So you just relax, sugar, and let me..." He slipped another finger in, twisted and spread, and hummed his approval as Nick's legs spread wider instinctively. "Just like that," he murmured, reaching over the edge of the bed with his other hand and coming up with a foil packet.

If Nick was half an organized as Jimmy he wouldn't have to go floundering for lube every time he and Justin wanted to do something. "Yeah," he said, and spread so damn easily for him. Like he craved it. "Just... yeah." He tried to hook a leg around Jimmy, but Jimmy wasn't having any of it, determined to do exactly what he said he would -- to do all the work.

"Tcht." He pushed Nick's leg down and wide. "None of that. You just relax, and once things get moving then you can show off how flexible you are." He kissed the inside of Nick's thigh, and the crease of his hip and the dip of his sternum, moving up his body until he was pressing his mouth to Nick's in a long kiss. Nick felt him, hard and hot and slippery, nudging at the entrance to his body. "Let me in," Jimmy whispered. "I'll make it good, I promise."

Nick felt a shiver go through his whole body, and he nodded his head. Again and again. "Yes," he said. "Yes, yes, yes, be inside me. Now, Jimmy!" It was a little demanding but mostly just desperate, and he pressed his heels into the bed and pushed back at Jimmy as much as he could.

"Sweet Jesus," Jimmy muttered, bucking his hips forward, sliding in and hitting Nick just perfectly. "Oh my god." He wasn't waiting, wasn't stopping, but set up an even, deep, quickening rythm right away. This time when Nick went to wrap a leg around him, Jimmy smiled at him sweetly, and helped. The angle changed, and so did the smile, and Jimmy's eyes closed as bliss washed across his face.

It was nice that it was so simple, being with Jimmy. Nick could just be, and enjoy himself, and tangle his whole body with Jimmy's as they thrust back and forth, in and out, over and over. He was sure he wasn't impressing anyone with his flexibility, but he'd kept some of his dance training so it wasn't *un*impressive. Either way, it *felt* incredible.

"Jimmy. Jesus," he said, and closed his own eyes and tilted his head back, just feeling.

Jimmy grunted vague agreement with the general sentiment, and twisted his hips cleverly, making Nick buck and gasp. "You...are...incredible..." Jimmy got out, fingers tight on Nick's leg and hip. He leaned in and dragged his tongue over Nick's nipple, then nipped it, then licked again. His tempo picked up almost imperceptibly at first, but soon he was rocking Nick from head to toe.

Nick wasn't incredible. Nick wasn't even doing anything! Jimmy... Jimmy was incredible, and doing very, very nice things to Nick's body. Nice enough that Nick wasn't entirely sure he was going to survive the experience. He knew his voice would shake if he tried to say anything, like it was shaking every time he let out even the smallest sound, so he didn't even try. He just tightened his legs around Jimmy and rode it out to the end.

"Fuck," Jimmy ground out, dropping his forehead to Nick's chest and thrusting so hard Nick could feel it to his toes. His whole body went tight, but he kept moving, bumping Nick's prostate on every in-twist until Nick felt the shivers start low in his pelvis, the hot feeling start melting up his spine, and he grabbed for Jimmy just as hard as Jimmy was clinging to him. When they finally stopped moving, Nick could hear the blood banging in his ears.

'Thank you' seemed so inappropriate, so Nick didn't say it, even though it popped into his head. Instead he kept panting, and squrming lightly, and he opened his eyes to give him Jimmy fond, exhausted smile. "Good thing *I* don't have to dance later," he murmured finally.

"See, I was just thinking how great and relaxed and loose I feel," Jimmy grinned in return. "It's gonna be a good night out there, I can tell. You, on the other hand," he slapped Nick's hip lightly, "can stand around and watch and enjoy taking a night off from the drama. Maybe get a drink, take it easy, huh? You already look a lot less tense."

Nick let a shiver go through him, and let his legs down but wrapped his arms around Jimmy to replace them. "Sit around, maybe," he said. "No drama. Wow, what a really, really nice thought. I think that's the most appealing thing anyone's said to me in a long time. Other than 'spread your legs', of course." "Well, of course other than that," Jimmy snickered, smooching the tip of Nick's nose affectionately. "Tonight, we're gonna live in a drama-free zone. I mean, as much as possible for two big ol' queens like us. And I'll pick up more drinkables for after the show, we can sit around and watch bad english sitcoms. Tomorrow you can go back to fretting over Timberlake, but tonight...no. You need a break, honey."

Nick nodded and his smile fell a little, but not entirely. He hadn't really realized *how* much he needed a break; he'd been thinking about how much Justin needed a break, and not himself. "Wow," he murmured, poking Jimmy's side. "Who knew you'd turn out to be a big ol' top, huh?"

"It's always us quiet ones who surprise ya," Jimmy said seriously, nodding, only his eyes giving the smile away. "Actually, I'm pretty easy both ways, but I got one look at that world-class behind of yours, and, well." He shrugged unapologetically. "AND I have to dance tonight, AND I know there's not much more relaxing than a nice deep fuck, if you're tense. It all adds up to fabulous good times for all, though." He kissed Nick's shoulder lightly, stroked his hair, and started to untangle himself. "Now don't you move an inch, I'll be right back."

"Yeah, like I even *can* move," Nick said lightly, but he did stretch his limbs out as far as they could go. Which was a really long way, actually. "You've done nailed me to the bed, Jimmy. I'm not going anywhere for a while, believe me. Not until we absolutely have to go."

"Well, *you* don't absolutely have to go anywhere tonight," Jimmy said over his shoulder before he disappeared into the bathroom, emerging a moment later with a gently steaming washcloth. "No, don't move, I like doing this." He started gently running the cloth over Nick's body, sitting crosslegged by his hip, still beautifully naked. "You can just hang out here and chill, if you want to. Take a nap. Have a drink."

"Mmm," said Nick, letting his eyes drift shut for a moment before responding. "I should really go to the show, though. I want him to know that I'm not that easy to scare off, even if I'm not spending the night with him this time. I... I guess I just want him to know that I'm still here. Does that make sense or just sound lame?"

"Nah," Jimmy scootched down the bed and started rubbing Nick's feet, after tossing the washcloth aside. "Not lame. Just...maybe you should take tonight. Let him worry about where you are, let him live in uncertainty for a little while. Then when you show up tomorrow, all bright-eyed and well-rested and looking fine, he won't know whether to kiss you or yell at you. I think the more you keep him off balance the better our little kidnapping plan will work."

Nick thought about that for a moment, wasn't sure how he felt about it, but it made sense. And with Jimmy pampering him like this, it was hard to disagree with him. "As long as it doesn't fuck up his performance or anything," he said slowly, then shook his head in disgust at himself. "Oh, who am I kidding. Like I"m actually that important in the grand scheme of things. So I can hang out here? Steal all your alcohol? I'll make sure someone restocks for you."

"Help yourself." Jimmy pressed strong thumbs into Nick's foot under the arch. "If Justin doesn't miss a few steps tonight because of you, I'll eat my hat. Or I would if I had a hat. But he'd miss 'em even if you were there, so don't beat yourself up about it. This way, he'll be wondering where you are. If you went, he'd be wondering why you hadn't left yet like a good little boy. Either way he's confused, this way it works out best for you." He stroked up Nick's calf, still rubbing deep. "He does care for you, y'know. It's why he's fighting so hard."

Nick shrugged, not really sure of anything to do with this mess. This relationship, though he could only really call it that inside his own head. "I wish I knew a lot more things for sure," he said quietly. "It would make things a lot easier. Thanks for being the sweetest thing on the planet, Jimmy. You probaby don't even know how good this has been for me."

"Awww." Jimmy looked pleased. "You deserve it, honey. Putting up with the princess all the time the way you do. We all appreciate it, you know, the way he mellows out when you're around." He kissed Nick's knee quickly, then kept on with the foot rub. "I think it'll all work out for you crazy kids. And just think, your life could be *boring*, and what fun would that be?"

"I wouldn't even know what that was like," admitted Nick. "I don't even remember anymore, before my life was this. Like... of course I have down time, especially now, but..." He looked over at him and grinned. "I'm rambling. I know. I'm sorry. I ramble when I'm feeling good. Or nervous, but mostly good. I shut up a lot when I'm nervous."

"So you must really NOT be nervous, right now," Jimmy teased, after blinking his way through Nick's ramble. He patted Nick's thigh fondly, and pushed himself away. "Okay, I have to go shower, because otherwise I'll have to dance the whole show smelling like sex with you. Which, okay, great smell, but not so good for the concentration." He waved a hand around the room. "I meant it, make yourself at home. You can stay here, if you like."

"I have a room somewhere," admitted Nick. "I'm not quite sure where, I haven't really been staying in it. So if it's cool, I'll just hang out here, maybe make a few calls that need making. Um. And when you get back from the show, you could tell me how he's doing and stuff?"

"Yeah, baby, okay." Jimmy sent him a sympathetic smile. "I'll be sure to keep an eye on him, okay? And if he asks where you are...you want me to play dumb? It would probably interrupt your drama free night to have him come charging in here demanding to know what's going on." He paused thoughtfully. "You know, I'm *definitely* going to play dumb on that one."

"He doesn't need to know," agreed Nick. "And security probably knows where I am already anyway, but I doubt they'll tell him anything. They don't have to, it doesn't have anything to do with him or them. So yeah... tonight I'll just stay in my hidey-hole and see how things work out."

"Okay. The television gets cable, and the room service bill is open, so get comfy." Jimmy sauntered into the shower, waving over his shoulder.

Nick was just thinking of getting up and possibly putting clothes on when a faint ringing distracted him. It was coming from his pants, but when he dug out his phone he didn't recognize the number. Still...he flipped it open, held it up.

"Nick?" Anxious, light, musical voice. "Is this Nick Carter's phone? I got the number from Joey, but I had some trouble reading my handwriting."

"This is Nick Carter," he said cautiously. He didn't think he was going to have to change his number -- no random person would call him and say *Joey Fatone* had given them the number -- but he didn't quite recognize the voice. "Who's this, then?"

"Oh! Oh, good. This is JC. JC Chasez, from N Sync?" As if Nick knew twenty JCs. "Listen, I just got a call from Jim. The security guy, he's my old security guy, from back in the day, you know, so we talk. Anyway, he said you were in a bad way or something, like, Justin's being a fuckhead again, and so I wanted to call and make sure you were doing okay, and things. You okay, cat?"

Nick sighed softly, but a smile tugged at his lips. "I don't know how much you know about what's going on..." he began, still a little cautious, "but yeah, he's trying to kick me off the tour. I'm kinda holed up with one of his dancers right now, trying to ride the whole thing out without actually having to, you know, leave. Because he's a stubborn fuckhead, but then, so am I."

"Oh, fantastic, man, that's great to hear." JC's voice sang relief. "I've been talking to Joey, he's all hooked in, man, I think security talks to him most, but that makes sense since he's paying half of 'em, y'know? Don't let Justin shove you off, he's all about that these days. He's just a big ball of negative energy, like some kind of reversed magnet. He needs a bigger, stronger magnet to switch his poles again, bring him back to the right side of things."

"He shoves awful hard," admitted Nick, scratching lightly at his stomach and glancing toward the bathroom. "And he's really fucked up, JC, but I'm sure I don't need to be telling *you* that. I'm okay, though. I got friends here who're looking out for me when I forget to. I don't s'pose *you* can shed any light on what the hell's going on with him lately?"

"I don't know," JC said sadly. "I mean, there was the Britney thing, and that started it, with the sleeping around and the stuff. And he and Chris, they had some big screaming nuclear fight, you know, the kind that only best friends can have? That's still going on. And I think, I think being alone is bad for him, in the touring, performing, musical sense, because he was all obsessivey anyway, and now there's no one to help with that. But even all those things shouldn't add up to this, really, nothing this bad."

"No," agreed Nick. "No, they shouldn't, and this is really bad. He's totally psycho sometimes, JC, and everyone knows it. Like, not just diva psycho, because we all have our days, but really nuts. He's treating people like crap and he knows it and it's like he just can't bring himself to care. It's sad, It makes me sad. I don't know what to do, and no one can tell me."

"It makes everyone sad, except the people that don't get sad, and them it just pisses off," JC agreed. "No one can tell you because no one knows, really, it could be anything. He won't tell us, so we can't tell you, but if he does tell you, then you should tell us, because I think we kind of need to know this. You know? So we can help. It's very hard to help when you can't figure out what's wrong. But whoo, he's a pain in the ass now, huh?"

Nick coughed politely. "So to speak," he said, nodding to himself as thought JC could see. "It's been okay. I mean, sometimes we get along great. Mostly in bed, but sometimes. So sometimes I know for sure that he's still in there, underneath this cold thing that he's become the rest of the time. If I figure it out, JC, believe me, I'll be sharing the info."

"Okay, cool, crackerjack," JC said, sounding relieved. "You two are still sleeping together, that's great. Or you will be when he figures out you're not leaving the tour, which is just as good really. He *is* still in there, I can tell, he's just all crushed and squashed down under the ice. You've gotta thaw him out, Nick. Be like the sun, dude, melt him all away."

"Be like the sun," Nick echoed him, and smiled a little again, feeling his resolve firming to make this work, to stick it out, to not give up on him yet. "I'll do what I can, man. I wish he was talking to all you guys, though. I feel like I'm your last hope, or something, and that's..." That was really sad, too, if he was being honest. "Well, we were sleeping together as of this afternoon. I'll have to get back to you on that, though, as for whether or not we still are."

"You're not quite our *last* hope," JC said carefully, like he was picking each word. "We can do, some, like, irrevocable shit through management, or his mom, or whatever, but I think that might kind of be the end of the group if we did. So we don't wanna. Hey, is he as big a bottom as I think he is? Me and Lance have money on this, it's very important. Also, kind of sexy to think about really, which is a little unexpected, but definitely a compliment to you."

"You guys have money on this?" Nick choked out. "Man. You know, I think he probably thinks you guys don't even know, about him at all let alone him and me. Though how he could think that, I don't even know. He's-- should I even be telling you this?" Nick laughed again. "Yeah, okay, he totally is. Big ol' lovely bottom boy and he's all mine. Well, for the moment."

He could hear JC clapping his hands. "Hah! Lance Bass can kiss my ass!" JC sounded positively gleeful. "Lance thought he was all toppy, but I said no *way*, and I'm right! I love taking Lance's money so, so much, especially since he always makes the sucking-lemon face." He giggled again, then quieted. "He hasn't told us about you, or him, or anything, nope. I'd be surprised if he thought we didn't know, though, since he knows we talk to people on his tour and stuff. He just, he doesn't talk to us. At all. Sometimes Lance."

"Yeah, he said something about Lance," admitted Nick. "About still talking to him. He's... well, you know, I really can't tell *what* he's thinking, like, ever. And you just tell Lance that Justin is a control freak, so of COURSE he's a bottom. It's just plain old pleasant logic. Though a boy could wish that he would switch, once in a while, too..."

JC giggled again. "I bet you can talk him into it once in a while. Those hips should be put to good use, y'know? At least sometimes. Maybe if you could spend some more time alone with him you could tell what he was thinking, you think? He was never all *that* good at hiding what he was feeling, at least longterm, and I bet deep down he still really loves talking about himself. That was always one of J's very favorite things." He sighed. "Good luck, dawg, okay? You keep on keepin' on."

"Yeah, you bet I will," said Nick. "And I'll keep taking what time alone I can, which is not very much, man. He has his time so regimented I'd be surprised if he even allowed himself bathroom breaks. Somehow he managed to find time to get me to fuck him, though, and I'm pretty sure that's not on the master schedule, so... yeah. Anyway. Thanks for calling, man, it makes me feel good, to hear from you guys."

"It feels good for us to hear from you too," JC assured him earnestly. "Call anytime. Oh, and if you could, tell AJ I say hi? And that he should call me? Because I lost his cell number and I wanna hook up now that we're both out west here, y'know, it's all kinds of cool that we're so close. And definitely keep fucking Justin, that's gotta be good for him, totally aside from the messing-up-the-schedule. Schedules are bad for the spirit, y'know. We're not box-shaped, us people!"

"Yeah, try telling Justin that," laughed Nick, realizing he hadn't spoken to AJ, or any of the guys, since he'd come over to hook up with Justin. "I'll pass along the message to AJ and I'll definitely keep fucking Justin. Believe me, I don't need to be told twice. I'll talk to you soon, man, take care. I'm doing the best I can, here."

"Bye bye bye," JC sang to him, and disconnected before Nick could answer. He was just closing his phone as Jimmy wandered back out, unselfconsciously naked, and started picking through the piles of clothes on the floor.

"I've gotta get back to the arena soon," he reminded Nick. "I'll check in on Hurricane Timberlake, see how things are going on that front, all right?" He tossed Nick the remote, from where it had been buried under a pile of t-shirts. "And I'll come straight back from the show, so if you wanna go out later wait for me, okay?"

"Yeah, I will," Nick promised him, tossing his phone back near his pants. "I don't think I'm gonna go out tonight, though. I kind of like the idea of sitting around and getting drunk and watching bad movies and talking shit about people. I haven't done that in way too long, I think. So hey, have a great show tonight. Not that you don't always, or anything."

"Oh, you," Jimmy beamed at him, and bounced over to give him a sloppy, wet, playful kiss. "I promise when I get back I will tell you *everything* I know, and baby that's a lot of dirt on a lot of people. We can even play the Closeted Celebrity Drinking Game! So much fun." He slung a bag full of shoes and wraps and towels over one shoulder. "Be good. Don't wreck the place, and I'll see you in a couple of hours."

"I'm always good," Nick told him, batting his eyes innocently. "Don't worry, I won't break anything. Looking forward to tonight!" He waved as Jimmy practically bounced right out of the room, the stretched out on the bed again, feeling the pleasant pull on his muscles. If he wasn't so stupidly into Justin, it might've been a good thing with Jimmy. As things stood, though, it was good to just have him as that kind of friend that would do anything for you Nick had too few of those, even when he tried to be one.

Two beers and a classic episode of Absolutely Fabulous later, Nick was stretched out in his boxers, pillows propped behind him, phone turned off, and more relaxed than he'd been in a week. He caught himself wishing that Justin was there with him, just to soak up some of the sleepy, tension-free atmosphere, and shook his head at himself. He sighed and settled back, and before the commercial break was over, he was fast asleep.

* * *

The great thing about having bodyguards, Nick reflected as he flagged down Jimmy in the long hotel hallway, was that they were always around and always knew where everyone was. Very convenient. Jimmy was waiting, looking faintly surprised, as Nick jogged up to him.

"Mr. Carter," he nodded with a little smile. "I thought you were staying on the fifteenth floor? Can I do something for you?"

"Is that where my room is?" said Nick with a little smile, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Huh. Who knew. Actually, I was looking for you. You got a minute, you think? To talk about some stuff?"

"Of course." Sometimes Jim seemed more like a butler or a concierge than a bodyguard. A really big, really strong butler, but still. He was just so *polite*. "What's on your mind, Mr. Carter? I think all my people are where they're supposed to be. Except you, of course." He grinned a little.

Nick, of course, grinned back. "It's about Justin. Well, obviously it's about Justin, right? There's not much else I would probably have to actually talk to you about, except if maybe I was being harrassed. Which I'm not! Which leaves Justin. I, uh, don't suppose you happen to have a copy of his schedule, do you? His real schedule, the one he follows, not the half-assed thing he showed me when I made him."

Jim tilted his head and peered down at Nick, consideringly. "I do," he finally said slowly. "I'm just sort of trying to figure out the ethics of this, here. If he'd wanted you to have it, he would have given it to you, I'm pretty sure." He toyed with the earpiece to his two-way for a moment. "They are very different, though, I'm guessing. If you called the other one half-assed, anyway, since the one I've got is scheduled down to the ten-minute mark."

"I know he doesn't want me to have it," said Nick, nodding his head. "And I know why he doesn't want me to have it. Because he knows I'll flip out and make him take more time off and not work himself to death. And for whatever reason, Justin is hellbent on driving himself into the ground." He nodded his head some more, thinking it over. "So okay, what can we do here, Jim? There must be some wiggling room here, some compromise. Because I really need to know, I need to know when he has -- or could have -- some time that he's not working."

"There's not a lot of that," Jim noted dryly, but pulled a sheet of paper out of his back pocket. He looked at it, looked at Nick, and sighed. "I really can't give this to you. I've got an obligation to Justin, he's my employer here, and even though I'm pretty aware of the problems the schedule's causing..." he sighed again, and ran a finger down the list. "I'm pretty sure some of these things are bogus," he muttered. "If I'm right, today at one o'clock. Between then and...there's no show tonight. In fact, there's no show until we get back to the states, so anything in there is technically reschedulable." He folded the sheet back up and carefully didn't look at Nick.

"Really," said Nick, leaning over and wishing he'd gotten at least a glance. "What kind of bogus? Just, like, stupid shit that he's gotten involved with because he can't bear to let anyone do their job? Cause man, he seems to do that all that *time*. Little control freak."

Jim's eyes crinkled up at the corners, though he didn't actually laugh. "Some of that," he agreed. "Some of this stuff I think is actually made up, though. I'm pretty sure there's not a security meeting tomorrow afternoon, since we're having one today, and he wouldn't need to be at it anyway. So it shouldn't be on here. And I *know* the riggers don't want him at their meeting tonight, even though he's got it starred for attendance. Stuff like that." He put the sheet away with a pointed glance at how Nick was trying to peek. "After one o'clock this afternoon, he's more or less free. And that's all I'm saying."

Nick nodded and chewed on the inside of his lip for a moment. "He's making shit up, to put on the list?" he said, trying to wrap his mind around that. "That's... that's really fucked up, Jim. Like even more fucked up than we knew he was fucked up. You know?" He didn't expect Jim to answer. "So okay, if after one o'clock today I make a kidnapping attempt, consider this fair warning. I swear he'll be unharmed.... if you don't count bite marks."

Jim eyed him carefully. "If you were going to make a kidnapping attempt, where would you take him and how long would you keep him? And I'm afraid I have to insist you take at least two guards along. It's for your safety and his, Mr. Carter. That's not negotiable." He didn't immediately shut the whole idea down, though, which gave Nick a pretty good idea of Jim's perspective on Justin's state of mind.

Nick thought about it for a moment. "I would take him to my room, but I think that's too close to everything still. Can someone make us a reservation at another hotel, do you think? That would be best, I think, to kidnap him too. Only one entrance your guys would have to worry about, and no one else around to be knocking on the door and convincing him he needs to be somewhere else." He nodded firmly, and hoped Jim would agree. Because he knew that if Jim didn't, it wouldn't be happening. "He may also possibly lose his cell phone on the way, but I'll have mine."

Jim chewed idly on the end of a pencil. "I've got a better idea," he said abruptly, "but this did not come from me. Because I have a feeling that no matter where he's staying, if it's in a hotel the press will know. Not to mention the fact that he probably won't take too well to being kidnapped." He shrugged in sympathy with what Nick was letting him into. "Let us rent you a cottage. Private, not too far away, and very good from a security standpoint. I think we can probably give you 24 hours of privacy, in that case."

"Yes," said Nick decisively. If Jim was gonna offer, he was gonna take it. "Thank you, yes, let's do that. And no, he's not going to be at all happy about being kidnapped and he's gonna make a lot of fucking noise. Is there any chance at all that the security we're bringing with us can be... invisible? I'd like to make Justin think we're alone. Like, really alone. If you think we can pull that off."

"We can," Jim nodded, eyes distant as he thought about it. "Unless there's an emergency of some kind, of course. And we will intervene if there's any indication that someone will be injured. Other than that, we'll mostly be keeping people away." He grimaced at Nick. "Please do give us some warning before you put your little plan into effect, will you? It tends to make my people jumpy to have their charge just disappear without warning, and I'd hate for there to be any misunderstandings." Jim's tone was mild, but clearly inflexible on this point. "Are you sure you can handle it?"

"No," said Nick, and took a deep breath. "But I have to do this, he needs me to do this. How soon do you think we can have that cabin secured and ready? Will I need to bring anything with me? I want to get him there as soon as I can, and it's not *that* long until one, really." He finally paused to give Jim a smile. "Thank you," he said quietly. "For all these things that you're-- that if anyone asks, you aren't doing."

Jim arched an eyebrow in acknowledgement. "I can probably have the cabin ready..." he checked his watch, thought for a moment. "This afternoon, probably before five. I'll just bill it to the security expenditures account, probably, and you can pay it back later. I do like my employer, Mr. Carter, and I'm happy to help when it looks like his welfare's at stake. I'll let you know when the cabin's ready." He broke off suddenly, and put a finger to his earpiece, nodding quickly. He was about to speak to Nick again when Justin, flanked by two security people, swung around the corner from the elevators, saw them, and came to a screeching halt, staring at Nick.

Nick wished he'd had a bit more warning than what he'd been given, and was struck dumb for a moment when Justin came into sight. Then he smiled and gave him a bit of a wave and tried to look like he'd been expecting him. "Hey," he said, as casually as he could manage. "How've things been going, man?"

"What the fuck." Justin's voice was blank, and he blinked twice at Nick like he couldn't believe he was standing there.

"All right, this conversation should probably not take place in the hallway," Jim interjected mildly. "Can I recommend you gentlemen take it into a room?" He indicated the open conference room door to his left, and Justin nodded, never taking his eyes off Nick.

"Y'all can get lost," he waved a hand at his security, who faded back with Jim as Justin led the way into the room, back as tense as a too-tight bowstring.

Nick took his time shutting the door, hoping to delay the inevitable. Justin blew up about a scrap of cloth being out of place these days; it wasn't a surprise that he looked poised to do it now. Even though Nick hadn't done anything wrong. It had been a lose lose situation, after all -- show up at the show last night and piss Justin off; *don't* show up at the show last night and piss Justin off.

"So," he said, finally turning back around to face him. "I heard you gave a good show last night."

"Mm-hmm," Justin agreed absently, still looking at him incredulously. "What the fuck are you doing here? You should be back in Florida right now. On your fucking beach." He crossed his arms tight over his body, practically strumming with tension. "Where the hell have you been? You weren't in your room last night."

"No," agreed Nick, standing his own ground by the door. "I was really unhappy last night, with how you were all mad at me and didn't want me anymore. I spent some time by myself, and then watched movies with a friend for a while. How did you know I wasn't in my room, anyway? I didn't think you cared."

"I try to keep track of who's hanging around," Justin bit out. "It's easy enough to ask security. So, I'm glad you had a nice relaxing night, it sounds fantastic, really. Movies, wonderful. Now that you've had your little rest, I'd appreciate it if you'd leave. Go home, Nick, I don't want you here anymore. I'll tell the driver to take you to the airport." His voice was like iron, and he was staring straight at Nick the whole time.

"I think you're lying to me," said Nick, shaking his head at him. "You don't want me to go, Justin. You don't want to be here without me. You know how much we like being with each other, how much fun we have. I see how you smile when we're alone together, Justin, and I know you're enjoying yourself. Why do you have to shove me away? Why do you have to be awful and hurt people? What does it get you?"

"It gets you to get out of here and leave me alone," Justin said, cold as ice, though his eyelashes fluttered once when Nick called him awful. "We had a good time, sure, you're a great guy. And now it's over and you need to leave. I'm not trying to hurt you, I'm just telling you how it is right now, and I figure you've gotta understand." He unclenched his hands and paced three steps, stopped, and rubbed his head with one palm. "Look, don't make a big deal out of this, all right? It was just...whatever."

"No," said Nick, shaking his head again. Or still. "Justin, no, I don't believe you. I don't believe you because I'm not the first person you've done this to. You've pushed every one of your friends away from you and I don't believe it's because you don't want them anymore. I don't believe it's because it's just "over", for no reason at all other than you being a self-centered jerk. I want to know what's going on here, Justin. You don't get to just say it's over and never talk about it. It doesn't work that way. And I'm still here."

Justin's eyes narrowed at this direct challenge, and he took a stiff step towards Nick, hands in fists at his sides. "What I choose--what my friends choose to do is none of your goddamn business, and if I wanna run my first solo tour without any distractions, god-for-fucking-bid!, I can have security haul your ass outta here so fast your head will spin. And I don't have to explain myself to you! Or anyone! Now get your shit and get out of here!" His voice was rising steadily.

"Stop being such a fucking asshole!" said Nick, just shy of a shout. "God, do you even hear yourself? Do you even know what kind of a prick you've turned into, to EVERYone? Believe it or not, you fucking diva, a lot of people get through solo tours without making every single person they work with hate them. They make it through solo tours without being fucking miserable all the time, without pissing off all their friends. You think you've got your shit together, Justin, when really you're making it all fall apart all around you!"

"I am DOING the best I CAN!" Justin was right up close to him now, and though his voice hadn't gotten any louder, it was as close to a quiet scream as Nick had ever heard, and his hands were shaking. He took a huge gulp of air, forced himself silent for a long moment, then shook himself. "It's falling apart anyway, no matter what I do," he said quietly, looking away from Nick. "I might as well try to at least get to the end of this tour. And this is the only way it'll happen, and then I'll be done. So it doesn't matter anyway."

"It matters!" said Nick, grabbing for his arm but stopping just short. "All this stuff matters, Justin, and it matters more than some stupid tour. If you were doing the best you could, you'd be doing what was best for yourself. And you're *not* and I don't know *why*. It's like you want to hurt, you want to be hurting all the time, and I don't get it. I don't understand! Why don't you just want to be happy?"

"I. Can't." Justin hissed at him, still quiet but looking for all the world like a miserable, angry cat. Who was about to go for Nick's eyes. "Okay? I can't, so this is as close as I can get, making sure this tour is as perfect as it can be. So back the fuck off, Nick, and get your ass on the next plane home." He shook his hands out of their clench, and started for the door. "Just go."

"You *can*," said Nick, stepping to the side to block the door. "You just won't. You stubborn, infuriating creature. And you think I don't notice that you've never once given me a reason for it? Never once made any attempt to explain why you're been such an ass to everyone, including yourself? Maybe other people will let you get away with that shit Justin. Maybe you're paying them to. But I won't, because I give a shit about you and I can't watch you do this to yourself anymore."

"You get out of my way," Justin warned, voice shaking a little. "Get out of the way right now, or I'm not gonna be responsible for what happens. I don't have to explain to you or anyone, I'm not accountable to you. I'm not asking you to let me get away with anything or fix anything or do anything for me, I just want you to go away." He was almost pleading at the end, holding out a hand towards Nick.

"No, you don't have to explain to anyone," Nick agreed with him. "You can just completely self-destruct and not tell a soul why and when they're writing biographies about you in a few years it'll be that one big mystery in the world ... why Justin Timberlake let that happen when he had so many people who love him. Tell me why you want me to go, Justin. Tell me why you don't want me anymore. Give me a reason I can believe, and maybe I'll start listening."

"I don't." Justin paused, and the silence echoed. "I want you to go because I don't have time for you right now," he ended, sounding tired, and almost defeated. "I'm trying to keep things together the best I can, and you take a lot of energy and attention and you're a distraction. I guess there's nothing I can do to make you leave without hating me forever, probably, but if you stay, I swear to god I'm not going to say a word to you again, Nick." He crossed his arms again, hugging himself.

"That doesn't make any sense," Nick insisted, actually touching Justin's arm this time. "I don't need your energy and attention. I can *give* you energy. You just have to let me. A happy person can get a lot more done than and unhappy one, Justin. The thing that takes the most energy of all is being stressed out. Shh! I'm not just saying that, it's perfectly true. And you know it. Why are you insisting on all these things that are just wrong and, like, destructive?"

"Because it doesn't *matter*," Justin argued desperately. "It doesn't. I don't want you to give me your energy, it'll suck you dry and then you'll end up with none yourself. You think I haven't seen it? Have you seen Chris lately?" He stopped, and breathed carefully, returning to that calm. "I'm not stressed out. I'm just really busy, and focused, and I've got goals, man, I've got things to shoot for. Maybe after the tour, remember? I'm gonna come visit you on your beach?" He gave Nick a small smile. "That'll be cool. So go on, get moving. You've got a plane to catch."

Nick shook his head. "No, I really don't, Justin. I have no plane to catch, I have no place to move to. Sure, I"m looking forward to you and me on the beach, but not yet. We still have a lot of stuff to do yet. Do you know... what time is it, anyway?"

Justin checked his watch automatically. "Four thirty. Shit, I have a thing. Listen." He tried to get around Nick to the door. "Listen, get the fuck out of the way, okay? I really want you to go, I'm not kidding. I'm serious. we have nothing left to do, not till after the tour. Then, we'll see."

Nick just blocked his way again. "No, actually, you don't have a thing, Justin. You don't have anything you need to be doing right now more than you need to be talking to me about this. Since you haven't seen fit to talk to anyone else. Believe me, Justin Timberlake, you have yet to meet anyone as stubborn as me, and that includes yourself. And *don't* take that as a challenge to try to beat me. You're just hurting yourself, and I think you know that. You won't admit it, but you KNOW it. You FEEL it. You have these twisted reasons in your head about why you're doing what you're doing, and you won't tell anyone because you know, deep down you know, you're wrong."

"No, I know deep down I'm *right*, and no one will understand!" Justin actually tried to dodge around Nick, but drew back when he would have had to brush by. "Look." He stood still, smiled, relaxed a little. "This is really fuckin' stupid, you keeping me in here like this. I've got stuff I got to do. Okay, you're not leaving, you got some bug up your ass about taking care of me or whatever, but can we talk about this later?"

"Actually, I think now is a really good time," said Nick, just as his cell phone started ringing softly. He made sure the door was very securely blocked before answering it. He didn't take his eyes off Justin. "Hello?"

"Mr. Carter?" Jim's voice was almost apologetic. "I know it's a little earlier than we'd said, but we've got a cottage reserved and a car standing by. I thought since you had him in there...now, you've just got to get him there." He paused. "Need any help?"

"Who the fuck is that?" Justin demanded hotly. "Tell them you're keeping me here against my will. HEY! Did you hear that?"

"Oh, hey Aaron," said Nick cheerfully. "Yeah, I'm having a good time." He laughed through Jim's perplexed silence, making an impatient gesture at Justin. "No, no, I can handle it fine. Ain't nothing this world can throw at me that I can't handle, not even English cuisine. Listen, I gotta run, okay? I got something I gotta do... yeah, right now, can't really wait."

"All right," Jim made the catch. "We'll be around, if you decide you can't handle it after all, just yell. The hall's clear from here to the elevator, and I'll get the guys to make sure the door's private. After that you're on your own." He chuckled a little. "He sounds pissed. Good luck." He clicked off, just as Justin made another break for the door. His face was slowly getting redder and redder as his anger grew, and this time he looked like he might actually shove Nick out of the way.

"Okay," Nick said into the silence. "Okay sure, I will. Bye, bro!" He disconnected from his end, or hit a button, anyway, for show, and looked up at Justin again. "Just my brother," he said, with an apologetic shrug. "Justin, I'm not trying to torture you here or something. I'm trying to... you know what I'm trying to do. If you really want to go, fine, let's go. But I'm coming with you."

"I don't know what you're trying to do," Justin argued, standing still finally when Nick refused to move. "I have no fucking idea what you're trying to accomplish besides pissing me off. But if you want to tag along, fine. Whatever. I'm leaving." This time when he pushed for the door Nick let him go. "Jim," Justin's voice was sharp as he went through, "I need to to escort Nick OUT of the ho-" he looked around and was clearly taken aback when there was no one there.

"Well?" said Nick, feigning impatience. "If you want to go and do whatever stupid thing you think you need to do, then let's go already. I'll call someone to bring a car around for you."

Justin eyed him suspiciously, taking a step away. "I think you should stay here," he said, heading for the elevator. "You should stay here, we can talk later. I'm pretty sure I've already got a car, since I'm-" he checked his watch, "-already ten minutes late for that meeting. You're an annoying fucker, Carter, you know that?"

"Yeah, well, I'm *your* annoying fucker," said Nick, almost keeping pace with him. "And I'm coming with you. If you're going to insist on doing this shit, then I'm at least going to get to see what's so important."

Justin sighed, long-suffering, but looked more irritated than angry now that he was finally moving. "You still have to go home, you know," he said almost conversationally. "I'm gonna have security lock you out just like any other crazy stalker. It's just a matter of time." He tapped impatiently on the railing in the elevator, almost bolting for the door when it opened.

"I'm not a crazy stalker, and they're not going to lock me out," said Nick, ducking inside before the doors closed. "They may politely suggest I leave, but they're not going to be forceful about it. And you know it, so you can stope with the lameass threats."

"They'll do what I tell them to," Justin said, eyes narrowed. "They'll bar you just like I say, and it'll start tomorrow. I don't guess there's anything I can do tonight. But since you've been staying with a 'friend,' I'm sure you'll find something to do." He headed straight for the outside door the moment the elevator dinged open, pointedly not waiting for Nick.

"They'll do what you tell them to, within reason," Nick corrected him, hiding a smile as they headed straight for the waiting car, the car Justin assumed was waiting to take him to whatever fucking meeting he thought he would be going to. "I think you want me to stay, anyway, you just don't want to admit it. You're scared of it."

"Right," Justin said, sarcasm just dripping from his voice. "That's it. It's not that you're an annoying shit who's getting all up in things he has no business in, it's that I'm *scared*. And that's why I'm secretly doing everything I can to make you stay." He shot Nick a withering look as he slid into the car, almost slamming it on Nick's hand. "Will you please just go the fuck back to your room? Jesus."

"Coming with you," insisted Nick, and yanked the door open hard and slipped inside, shoving Justin over. "I can't think of any other reason you don't want me here, Justin, because it's obvious to me that you like spending time with me. It's only afterwards that you turn into a raging asshole."

"I am *not*," Justin started hotly, then shook his head. "I'm not getting into this with you," he added evenly. "I've said what I'm gonna say, you're out of here, I don't know why you keep following me like this." He tapped the window in the limousine briskly. "Take me over to the arena, thanks." When he sat back his arms were crossed and he looked perfectly composed. "I enjoyed spending time with you, yeah. And now it's over. What part of that don't you get?"

"The part where you're kicking me out when I'm just about the one thing around here that makes you happy," said Nick. The limo started moving, and he, at least, knew that it was going nowhere near the arena. "Because that part, Justin? That part doesn't make any sense. Just like it doesn't make any sense that you did the same thing to your best friends in the world. And not only have you never given me a reason why you keep doing it, you've never given anyone one."

Justin rolled his eyes. "I'm a big boy. I can have reasons for things and not want to share them with the entire world. As for my friends..." Was that a flash of pain? "They're, they're fine. They've got each other, they're good. I'm perfectly happy without your annoying ass, Carter. Think much of yourself, there?"

"They've got each other?" Nick echoed back to him. "It ever occur to you that they might want you, too? And you want them? I don't know how you think I'm supposed to swallow this load of garbage, Timberlake. You're perfectly happy without me? Not according to what you've said before. You've said some stuff you can't take back and I'm glad you can't because once in a while, it's nice that you can be honest. That you can admit that things aren't exactly as perfect for you as they might seem to someone who doesn't know you."

Justin sighed, looking long-suffering. "Of course I'm not *perfectly* happy. No one is. But I'm getting along pretty well, when I'm not getting my schedule fucked with by people who're interfering for my own good." His tone took on some acid. "I think-" He glanced out the window, and frowned. "Hey. This isn't the way to the arena."

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