Part 2


The ringing of the telephone was an annoying, insistent sound; one that Justin was unable to escape. He removed the pillow from over his head and looked across the bed. JC’s side was empty. And there was the phone. Justin reached over and grabbed the receiver.

“What!” he screamed.

“Is that anyway to speak to your girlfriend?” Britney asked, laughing through the phone.

“It is at,” Justin squinted at his watch, “nine-thirty in the morning, Brit.” Justin rolled over in the bed, propping himself up against the headboard. “How’d you get this number, anyway?” Justin asked, slightly offended. He didn’t even have JC’s number yet.

“Jealous?” she said, laughing again. “I helped him move in, idiot.” Justin snorted. “Well, I was there when the phone guy came,” she clarified. “Enough about the phone…what are your plans for today?”

Justin thought of the photograph he’d found. He’d shoved the picture in a drawer in the bathroom, unsure of what to do with it. He honestly was still freaked out by the photo, as well as the feelings he’d been getting from this house. But he wasn’t sure what to say to JC about it. “I’m not sure yet,” he began, wondering if Britney could be of assistance. “I may need some help with something. Are you free today?”

“As long as you buy me lunch, I’m yours,” she said. Britney loved both Justin and JC, and knew her role in their life was an important one. She’d make sure that she and Justin were seen together at some fashionable spot in town, and once again, the myth of their relationship would be news.

At the mention of food, Justin’s stomach began to growl. “Great, I’ll call you later.” He hung up the phone, and went into the bathroom.

Coming down the stairs, he looked again at the house. Daylight had made the soft, beige walls glow, and the shiny wood floors also seemed warm and inviting. But as Justin walked through the house, every now and then he felt a cold shiver run up his spine. Which, when you thought about it, was ridiculous. This was LA…it never got cold. Justin looked in all the rooms, searching for JC, but found only empty spaces except for one. JC’s piano had been delivered. Justin smiled, knowing that the one piece of furniture that JC could not live without was his piano…even before getting a bed.

He went through to the kitchen and grabbed a bowl, some cereal, and some milk, sitting at the counter to eat. He was just raising his first spoonful of Cap’n Crunch when he finally spied JC.

He was outside, on the patio, doing Tai chi. And god, he looked good. He was dressed in pajama pants and a tank top, and faced toward the sloping view, so Justin could see his profile. His movements were slow and graceful, and Justin’s breath caught as he watched his lover slowly turn…lift…press…inhale…exhale…bend…stretch…Justin shifted on his stool as the sight of JC was making him ache. He’s so beautiful, Justin thought, cereal completely forgotten. And he’s mine. Nothing will ever come between us, nothing and no one…especially not Chris. Justin blinked, tearing his eyes away from JC as that thought popped into his head. Chris? Why would Chris come between them? He shook his head as he heard the patio door open and JC enter the kitchen.

He spied Justin at the counter. “Good morning,” he said, his eyes bright, coming over and kissing him softly. “I see you found your cereal supply,” JC said, nibbling on Justin’s lips, sliding his tongue against his mouth. Justin was more than happy to oblige, opening his mouth for JC’s tongue to enter. They kissed slowly and deeply, JC leaning his hip against Justin’s thigh, his hands pulling Justin closer. Justin wound his hands around JC’s waist, plastering the older man against him. The kiss intensified, and would have gone farther if the rumbling of Justin’s stomach hadn’t interrupted them.

JC pulled away and laughed. “You’d better eat,” he said, lifting a hand to play in Justin’s curls…only to stop, looking at his hand in amazement. Justin didn’t have any curls, he hadn’t had curls for almost a year. JC shook his head. Déjŕ vu, maybe, he thought, walking to the other side of the kitchen and getting some coffee.

“What are your plans for the day?” JC asked, smiling as Justin attacked his cereal.

Justin paused, thinking of the photograph, and his dream. “Lunch with Britney, that’s it,” he said, finishing his breakfast and waking with his bowl to the sink. He stayed by the sink, looking out the window at Los Angles below the hills. “How’d you sleep last night?” he asked JC, hoping the question was casual.

“Good,” JC said. “How about you?”

“Okay, I guess.” He hesitated a bit. “I did have a weird dream.”

“Weird?” JC asked his eyes locking with Justin’s over the rim of his coffee cup.

Justin again felt a cold shiver at the sight of JC’s eyes over the cup. What the fuck is going on? he thought.

“Justin?” JC said, as the look on the boy’s face changed. “What’s wrong?”

Justin shook his head. “Nothing, I’m fine.” He reached up and removed the coffee cup from JC’s hand. “You know,” he said, pulling the older man close, his fingers working to release the string on JC’s pajama bottoms. “We really should christen the kitchen, too.” Justin leaned in to capture JC’s mouth, his teeth tugging at JC’s lower lip. His other hand snaked up to tangle in JC’s hair, pulling his head slightly back to run his mouth along JC’s neck, nibbling at the sensitive skin.

“Really?” JC asked, pulling Justin’s hips closer, making the younger man groan from the contact of their throbbing erections.

“Hmm, yes,” Justin whispered, his hand successfully untying the pants. JC felt a cold rush of air as they dropped to the floor and puddle at his feet. Justin gracefully dropped to his knees. “Brings good luck,” he said, running his tongue lightly across JC’s cock, smiling as he watched JC leaned back and grabbed the counter. “To the house,” Justin continued, lightly scraping his teeth on the head of JC’s cock, causing the older man to shiver. Justin grabbed his hipbones to steady both himself and JC as his assault continued. “To share love in every room,” he finished, finally engulfing JC with his mouth.


“Are you sure you didn’t do this photo shoot?” Britney asked as she and Justin drove down the freeway. Justin had picked up Britney a few minutes ago, and before they’d even gotten down her driveway he was telling her about his dream, the feelings from JC’s house, and the photograph. “You’ve both done a million shoots…how can you remember them all?”

Justin shook his head. “I’d remember this one,” he said, looking over and pointing at the photograph. “The only time we’ve ever been dressed in clothes like that was for the ‘Gone’ video, and we never went near a train.” He reached out and flipped the photograph over. “Read what it says,” he ordered.

Britney looked up, her brows rising in surprise. “1928?” Justin nodded. “This is just…” her voice trailed off, unable to finish.

“Weird?”

“My thoughts exactly,” she said, putting the photo aside and turning towards Justin. “What did JC say about it?” Britney’s eyes narrowed when Justin didn’t answer. “Justin?”

“I didn’t tell him,” he said, checking the address again on the slip of paper in his hand. and pulling into the parking lot. Justin parked the car and stopped the engine.

“Why not?”

“He’s so proud of that house, Brit.” He got out of the car and walked around to Britney’s side, opening the door and helping her out. Britney smiled, happy for the help. Justin’s little BMW was a nice ride, but hellaciously awkward to get out of with any grace. “What am I going to say? ‘Hey JC…I think there’s something really creepy about your 1.2 million dollar house…let’s move out?’”

“So what do you think it is?” she asked, grabbing his hand as they walked to the building.

Justin shook his head. “I have no idea, but I think we need to find out who the men in the picture are. Or were.”

“Okay,” Britney agreed. “And we do that how?”

“That’s why we’re here at the morgue,” Justin said, indicating the building in front of them.

“What?” Britney yelled, pulling away from Justin. “I am not going into a morgue!”

Justin laughed and grabbed her hand again. “It’s a newspaper morgue, dumb ass,” he said, kissing her on the nose. “Oomph,” he hissed as she elbowed him in the stomach, passing him and entering the building.



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