Sweet Victory


Tuesday, February 19, 2002

“Did you read this?” Justin asked, nodding at this computer screen.

Lance munched on a bowl of cereal while JC snored on the couch. “Read what?” Lance mumbled through bites.

“THIS,” Justin said, setting his lap top in front of Lance. “Those Grammy expert people. They picked us to win.”

Lance’s eyes roamed the screen, reading the words in front of him. “That’s great, Jup,” Lance smiled, patting Justin on the arm.

“Hello? Aren’t you, like, freaking out over it?”

Lance chuckled and took another bit of his cereal. “Justin,” he crunched. “They don’t pick the winners. Yeah, it’s cool as hell that they think we should win, but 9 times out of 10, it doesn’t happen that way.”

Justin pouted, folding his arms across his chest. “Come on, Lance. Doesn’t it make you even a little excited?”

“Sure it does, Justin. The prospect of winning a Grammy is pretty fucking cool. But like I said…they don’t pick the winners.”

“Fine,” Justin snapped, whisking the laptop away from Lance. “I’ll show JC. He’ll get excited with me.”

“He’s sleeping.”

“Not for long,” Justin said over his shoulder, heading for the couch and JC’s sleeping form. He plopped next to JC’s long body and shook his shoulders. “JC.”

JC rubbed at his nose and rolled over on his side.

“Josh!”

“Mrmfmffm…” he mumbled, swatting at Justin’s hands.

“Josh, wake up. I need to talk to you.”

JC’s eyes fluttered open and he looked up into Justin’s beaming eyes. “What. Do you want.”

“Look!”

“Justin, I’m trying to sleep here, and—“

Justin shoved the lap top in JC’s lap and pointed to the screen. “Look.”

JC’s eyes widened as he read the words, and he broke out in a grin that matched Justin’s. “Dude, this is fucking cool!”

Justin turned and stuck his tongue out at Lance. “Told you, Lance.”

“Told him what?” JC asked.

“Lance said it’s nothing to get excited about. That these people don’t pick the winners.”

“Well, yeah,” JC scoffed, “but 9 times out of 10 they’re right.” Lance burst out laughing, spitting cereal everywhere.

“He just doesn’t understand,” Justin said, shaking his head as he scooted closer to JC on the couch. “Now lets see if we can find anyone else who thinks we’re going to win.”




“Justin, we’re not going to win, ok? I don’t want you to go out there on Wednesday night and get your hopes up when nothing is going to happen,” Chris said, shaking his head.

“God, Chris, have a little faith, would you? Way to have a positive attitude. Geez. We’re gonna win. I know we are. JC knows we are. So when we’re all prepared with our speeches and our thank yous and you’re standing there like a deer caught in the headlights, don’t come running to me.”

Chris burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as the giggles rolled through his body. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No!”

“Care to make a little wager, then?”

“Jesus, Chris, you’re betting against your own fucking group. I should have you kicked out.”

Chris laughed again. “Good luck with that one, Infant. Now, as I was saying, care to make a little wager?”

“Like what?” Chris smiled; Justin never could pass up a bet.

“If we don’t win, I get your blue M-Class.”

“What? Chris, come on, like you really even want that,” Justin said, his eyes wide at the thought of losing his baby to someone he knew wouldn’t take care of it as well as he would.

“You shouldn’t have a problem betting it, seeing as you’re so sure we’re going to win,” Chris smirked.

Damn. Chris had him there. “Fine. And if—I mean, WHEN—we do win…what do I get?”

“You get to tell JC how you feel about him.”

Justin heart stopped beating. “W-what?”

“You heard me.”

“Chris, how fair is that? I mean, come on! I’m pretty much losing either way!”

“No you’re not. I know we’re not going to win, so I’m not too worried about it.”

“But if we do win, then I’m fucked!”

Chris wriggled his eyebrows. “You just might be. Right there, backstage, after our victory.”

“Chris!”

Chris laughed hysterically, collapsing into a ball of giggles on the couch.

“Well it’s true.”

“He doesn’t feel the same way.”

“You don’t know that.”

“…”

“You taking the bet, or what?”





“We are so going to win,” JC proclaimed from the bathroom, towel drying his wet hair.

“No. We’re not,” Lance said matter-of-factly.

“Gotta go with Lance on this one, man,” Joey said. “He’s right. No way they’re going to give a Grammy to us. They still think we’re a boyband. No respect, I tell ya.”

“You guys don’t have to believe me, but when Justin and I look cool up there and you both look like idiots who are completely shocked that we won, you’ll be sorry.”

Lance turned to Joey, who turned to Lance, and both men burst into a fit of giggles. “

“What? It’s true. We’re gonna win.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Huh?”

“I said, wanna bet?” Lance repeated, winking at Joey.

“Bet what?”

“Oh, I dunno…like…if I’m right, and we lose…you have to take care of Dirk for the entire tour.”

JC made a face, “God, Lance, you know I hate that little rodent.”

“If you’re so sure we’re going to win, you won’t mind saying yes.”

Damn. Lance had him there.

“Fine. What do I get if we win?”

“You get to kiss Justin.”

“What? Lance, that’s like…totally unfair! And unrealistic!”

“You want to, don’t you?”

“Well yeah, but come on, Lance, that’s just unfair! He’s like…way straight. And there’s Britney.”

“We’re not going to win, JC, so you might as well just take the bet.”

JC looked at Lance warily.

“So whaddya say?”



Wednesday, February 27, 2002—Grammy Night

“Justin, you almost ready?” JC called through the door.

Justin took a deep breath and smoothed down his shirt, buttoning his suit coat and taking one last look in the mirror. They were going to win tonight.

“I’m ready,” he said, emerging from the bathroom. “You ready to go get our Grammy?”

JC smiled. “Damn right. Let’s go.”

They rode the elevator in silence, walked to the limo in silence, and sat on opposite sides when they finally slid in.

“So, you two still think we’re gonna win?” Chris asked, smirking.

“Of course,” Justin said, eyes darting to JC. “Don’t you?”

“Yeah, of course I do,” JC replied. Lance stifled a giggle. Joey elbowed him in the stomach.

“Looks like we’re here. Ready to put on the red carpet smiles?” The five men filed out of the limo one by one, hearts fluttering nervously in their chests.

“So Justin, you still think U2’s gonna take it all?” one reporter asked.

Justin beamed at the camera. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see, won’t we. I just hope we don’t get booed again!” Everyone laughed as they made their way inside.

“Good one back there, man,” JC said, clapping Justin on the back.

“Thanks, JC. Hey, um, there’s something—“

“Justin!” a high-pitched voice called. Both men turned their heads to the front of the theater. “Over here, baby!” Britney. “They put us together!”

He smiled weakly at JC. “Ready, man?” JC nodded and followed.

“Hey guys!” Britney gushed, pulling Justin into a kiss. JC looked away.

“Hey babe, you look great.”

“Thanks, sweetie. So do you,” she said, sitting down. “They put me between you and JC…is that ok?”

No, Justin thought. “Yeah,” he said, taking his seat. He leaned forward and smiled at JC, but his smile faded when he realized JC wasn’t even looking at him.

“You ready for tonight, Jayce?” Lance whispered as he slid into his seat next to JC. JC felt his cheeks redden.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno,” Lance shrugged. He turned and grinned at the older man. “Good luck.”



Their performance went off without a hitch, and they loved the wild cheers they got when Nelly joined them on stage.

JC should have been happy. Justin should have been happier. But they were both a ball of nerves.

The award for Best Pop Performance by a Duo or Group was next. The award they were favored to win.

JC leaned forward. “You ok, Just?” he asked.

Justin nodded, smiling slightly. “Just a little nervous is all.”

“Me too,” JC said, smiling. He sat back in his chair and waited while the nominees were read.

“And the nominees are…Superman (It’s Not Easy), Five for Fighting…Shape of My Heart, Backstreet Boys…Gone, *NSYNC…Imitation of Life, R.E.M…and Stuck in a Moment You Can’t Get Out Of, U2.”

Justin stopped breathing. JC closed his eyes. Chris, Lance, and Joey waited.

“And the winner is…”

Seconds turned into minutes, and hours, and maybe even years, as far as JC was concerned.

“*NSYNC! Gone!”

There’s a thousand words that I could say…to make you come home…

JC opened his eyes slowly, a grin spreading across his face and tears forming in his eyes. Joey was whooping, Chris was laughing, and Lance was staring.

Justin stood up, his own eyes glassy. Britney stood up to hug him, but he pushed past her and fell straight into JC’s arms, clinging on to him like he was never going to let go.

JC returned the embrace, burying his face in Justin’s neck, letting his tears fall onto Justin’s shoulder. “We did it,” Justin whispered, rocking JC back and forth. “We really did it.”

“I know, Jus. I can’t believe it.”

“I love you.”

“What?”

“I love you. I’m in love with you. Now let’s go get our Grammy!” He tugged at a stunned JC’s arm, pulling him to the stage.

Justin bounded happily up the steps, JC trailing behind. Did he just say he was in love with me? Could this night get any better?

Little did he know that he’d soon be finding out.



“I can’t believe we won,” Lance said, raking his shaking hands through his hair. The five men stood backstage, all completely shocked at the victory.

All, of course, but JC and Justin.

“We told you we were gonna win!” Justin laughed, nudging JC. “Didn’t we, C?”

JC nodded absently, unable to stop the words I love you. I’m in love with you from ringing through his head.
“Um, you guys?” Justin asked, looking at Lance, Chris, and Joey. “Would you mind leaving Josh and I alone for a minute? There’s something I have to talk to him about.”

All three men smirked as they walked back to their seats, leaving the lead singers alone. “You wanna go to the dressing room, Josh?” Justin asked nervously, picking at this shirt.

“Yeah, sure,” JC said, avoiding Justin’s eyes. He jumped when Justin’s hand slipped in his, pulling him down a long corridor and finally pushing him into the dressing room, locking the door behind them.

“So…um…” JC said, still not looking at Justin.

“Josh, I’m so sorry I sprung it on you like that, I know you don’t feel the same way but I told myself that if we won I would tell you…ok, I told Chris that if we won I would tell you…and I just can’t keep it inside anymore, and we just won a fucking Grammy, JC, and it’s like, the best feeling in the world, and I was just so happy and I just wanted you to know and I—“

“Justin,” JC interrupted, taking a step closer to the younger man.

Justin looked up at him with wide eyes. “Yeah?”

JC closed the gap between them and pressed Justin up against the door. “Shut up,” he mumbled against Justin’s lips, kissing him for the first time. JC’s hands slid up Justin’s sides, underneath his shirt, caressing the soft skin of Justin’s stomach. Justin sighed into JC’s mouth, running his fingers though JC’s hair.

“I’ve wanted you forever, Justin,” JC breathed, pushing Justin’s suit coat off his shoulders, letting it fall in a heap to the floor. “I’ve loved you forever.”

“Mmm…” Justin agreed, kissing JC’s neck.

They continued kissing as JC undid the buttons of Justin’s shirt, letting it fall on top of his suit coat as it slid off his back.

“So beautiful,” JC murmured against Justin’s chest as he licked his way downward.

“JC,” Justin breathed when JC’s hand cupped the bulge in his pants.

JC smiled against Justin’s stomach as he unbuckled Justin’s belt, sliding Justin’s pants over his hips in one swift motion. Justin stepped out of them and JC stood up, meeting his eyes.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, kissing Justin’s nose.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Justin responded, running a knuckle down JC’s cheek. “I love you, Josh.”

“I love you too.”

JC hooked his thumbs in the waistband of Justin’s boxers, easing them down over the younger man’s throbbing erection. He knelt in front of Justin, looking up at him with hungry eyes.

Justin’s eyes were squeezed shut, his head tilted back and pressed against the door.

“Justin,” JC whispered, his hot breath fanning over Justin’s cock.

Justin whimpered, thrusting forward slightly. “Justin, look at me.”

Justin forced his eyes open and looked down. JC smiled before swiping his tongue across the head of Justin’s cock, all the while keeping eye contact with him. “I love you,” he whispered before taking Justin’s entire length in his mouth.

Justin nearly screamed, bucking his hips forward as JC sucked him in.

JC licked and sucked like he’d done it a million times before, and Justin was coming way before he wanted to. JC swallowed every drop, kissing Justin’s softening cock as Justin slid down to the floor and collapsed in JC’s arms.

“God, JC,” he breathed, nuzzling JC’s neck with his nose. “That was amazing.”

JC smiled and kissed the top of Justin’s head. “You should probably get dressed, baby.”

Justin sat up and looked into JC’s sparkling blue eyes. “Say that again.”

“You should probably get dressed?”

“No. Baby. Call me baby again.”

“I’ll call you baby all the time from now on. That ok?”

“More than ok,” Justin whispered, kissing JC sweetly. “But wait, don’t you want me to—“

“I want you to make love to me, Justin,” he whispered, kissing behind Justin’s ear. “But not here. Not in a dressing room. I want our first time to be special.”

“So do I,” Justin said, reaching for his pants. “I love you, ya know.”

“I know. How could you not?”

“Hey,” Justin says, pinching JC playfully.

“I’m kidding, baby. I love you too.”

“This has been the best night ever,” Justin said as he buttoned his shirt and pulled on his coat. “We won a Grammy, and I got a boyfriend.”

“A pretty sexy one at that,” JC smiled.

Justin laughed. “A little full of yourself there, Chasez?”

“I’m gonna be full of you later,” JC said huskily, pulling Justin to his feet.

Justin blushed and kissed JC one last time before they returned to their seats. As he looked over at his boyfriend, beaming with pride, he couldn’t imagine a sweeter victory.



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