Part 2


Another long dinner.

Justin sighed, looking around the sparkling dining room.

More laughing at the same jokes, nodding at the appropriate times. Listening to vacuous women talking about clothing, about boastful men and the money they’ve made. Eating rich foods and drinking expensive wines.

Watching as Catherine became more and more angry with him as Justin became more and more silent. “What is wrong with you?” she asked under her breath. “Mrs. Astor just asked you a question, and you completely ignored her!”

“I did answer her,” Justin argued. “I said yes.”

“But the question required more of an answer,” Catherine hissed.

“I didn’t feel like answering anymore than that.”

Justin felt her clutch his arm under the table. “You’re embarrassing me, Justin,” she hissed, though smiled at Mrs. Astor sitting next to Justin. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Not everything is about you, Catherine,” Justin said, prying her hand off his arm.

“Everything you’re doing should be about me,” she said. “I know what’s going on, Justin. My father tells me everything.”

Justin’s heart sank. The one saving grace to his marrying Catherine was the belief that she didn’t know he’d been forced into it. But she does know, and it would seem, not above using that knowledge for her own leverage in their relationship. “If you knew…”

“Why did I say yes?” She lifted a hand and smoothed down Justin’s lapel. “I could see what was happening in Boston. And New York. Everywhere we tried to get into society, the doors were closed. So Father and I came up with this plan.”

“You…”

“Don’t look so shocked,” she told him. Justin saw a determination in her eyes, a look that cast an ugly and hard shadow on her face. “You people were determined to keep us out. I was determined to get us in. You needed money, I needed a name.” She smiled, but her eyes were cold. “So, if you know what’s good for everyone, you’ll act a bit more like the Justin Timberlake everyone knows, and less like a depressed lump.”

Justin swallowed, clutching his napkin under his lap to stop his hands from shaking. He saw the waiter coming to pick up the dessert plates, and knew he could excuse himself with the rest of the men at the table. He needed to get out, get away from Catherine, from the dining room, from everyone. With a whispered good bye, he left the table, moving quickly past the other men, and once outside the dining room, running outside.

And he ran. And ran. And ran.

He ran until he reached the end of the ship and was stopped by the rail. The night was cold, the metal of the rail even colder. He looked down, at the ocean, at the wake of the propellers. It would be so easy.

So.

Very.

Easy.

He lifted a foot, placing it on the first rail, seizing the metal hard and started to lift his other foot when someone spoke.

“You don’t want to do that.”

Justin turned toward the sound of the voice. Standing under a light, smoking a cigarette was a man. Justin blinked, realizing it was the same man he’d seen earlier that day, the one with the sketchpad and mesmerizing blue eyes. Justin clutched the rail. “I beg your pardon?”

The man left his perch and walked toward Justin. “You don’t want to jump,” he said simply.

As he came closer, Justin got a good view of the man. Lean and tall, with sharp features and a soft mouth. A few wisps of brown hair were escaping from a cap perched low on his head. The torn cap matched the rest of the man’s clothes. Old and worn, but clean and in places, mended. The man lifted his head, pinning Justin with his eyes. Those incredible blue eyes that had caught Justin’s gaze before, and now seemed to do the same again.

Those eyes were smiling as the man looked over the edge of the ship. He flipped his cigarette butt into the air, watching as it sailed down into the inky water. He looked back at Justin. “It’s a long way down, and probably not a great way to die.”

Justin stiffened. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied.

The man laughed, mouth splitting into a huge grin. “Of course you do!” he countered. “I know people, kid, and I can tell when someone is thinking about certain things. But as I said, you don’t want to do it.”

“Who are you to presume to tell me what I want to do!” Justin countered, pride taking over.

“JC Chasez,” the man said with another grin. He held out his hand. “And you are?”

Justin removed his hand from the rail. “Justin Timberlake,” he said, shaking the other man’s hand. He immediately felt the man tighten his grip, holding Justin’s hand in an iron clasp. “What?”

“Now, you can’t jump,” JC said, slapping his other hand over the one of Justin’s, enveloping Justin’s hands in his own. “Unless you want to take me with you.”

Justin tried to pull his hand out of JC’s warm grasp, but couldn’t. “Sir.” He tugged to no avail. JC just looked at Justin, with an expression that said he was quite content to stay there all night if need be. Justin sighed and gave up. “I won’t jump,” he said softly.

JC looked at Justin for a moment longer, then slowly released Justin’s hand. “Good.” He reached into his pocket for another cigarette, offering one to Justin who declined with a shake of his head. “So,” he said, striking his match on the rail and lighting his cigarette. “Are you one of those Timberlake’s?” JC asked, tossing his match overboard.

Justin laughed humorlessly. “You could say that,” he allowed. “I’m actually the last of those Timberlake’s.”

“Until you have children,” JC said. Justin shot him a glance. “I saw you, this afternoon. With a girl.” He shrugged. “I just assumed she was your wife.”

“Fiancée,” Justin corrected.

“Close enough.”

He smoked in silence for a while, looking out at the ocean. Justin gazed at him quizzically, so much that he turned to Justin with a question of his own. “What?”

“Why did you save me?” Justin asked.

JC shrugged. “Seemed the thing to do,” he answered, but Justin didn’t buy that.

“No, please,” Justin demanded. “I don’t know you. You don’t know me. What would it matter, really?”

JC flicked his spent cigarette into the ocean. “Don’t you know me?” he asked, moving a bit closer to Justin. He raised a hand, lightly skimming it along Justin’s jaw. “Don’t you?” he asked again, feathering his fingers along Justin’s mouth.

Too stunned to move, Justin stood there, letting a complete stranger touch him. Letting a man touch him. It was wrong. It was crazy. It was…

Wonderful.

He saw JC smile slightly as Justin leaned into the caress. He watched as those icy blue eyes came closer, closer, until finally they closed right before soft lips met Justin’s.

The kiss was soft and gentle and warm and moist and oh, my, everything Justin had ever wanted. His first real kiss. Given to him by a stranger on the back of an ocean liner, but yes, it was perfect. He felt JC’s tongue peek out, skimming along his own mouth before seeking entrance to Justin’s. He opened his lips, sighing as JC’s tongue slipped inside, sharing the other man’s taste with Justin. JC tasted like tobacco and salt and all things wonderful.

A small moan escaped Justin’s throat as JC deepened the kiss. His hands came up to frame Justin’s face, holding it as he slanted his mouth across Justin’s, surging inside to sweep deeply in Justin’s mouth. Justin’s own hands flexed, not knowing where to hold or what to touch, shaking a bit as they finally rested on JC’s hips. He slipped one hand inside of JC’s coat, feeling the heat and soft skin under JC’s shirt, rubbing softly before grasping JC’s shirt from behind to pull the older man closer.

He felt JC smile against his mouth. “So beautiful,” JC whispered. “I saw you today, and knew. Saw how beautiful you were, and knew you’d taste as good. And when I saw you just now, so sad, so despondent, I had to stop you. Because something so warm, so alive, so beautiful should not be wasted on the cold and black ocean.” He kissed along Justin’s jaw, moving slowly down Justin’s throat, sucking deeply on the pulsing skin. He slid a hand down and placed it on Justin’s hip, drawing him in closer. “It should be shared. With me.”

The feel of JC’s hardness against him shocked Justin out of his blissful state. He jumped back, away from JC, his breathing hard, his cheeks stained in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. Oh, god, please. I’m…” Justin backed away.

“Justin,” JC said, holding out a hand. “Wait. Please.” Justin paused. “I’m not wrong about this.” JC’s eyes flicked to Justin’s pant front, the outline of Justin’s own erection straining the material. “You want me.”

Justin shook his head. “That’s besides the point.” He backed away a bit more. “I…thank you for your assistance tonight, Mr. Chasez. But please, please, leave me alone.” With that, Justin raced back down the ship, running, running away from something that he didn’t understand. Something that scared him more than marriage to Catherine did.

Because he knew what JC had said was the truth. He did want JC. More than anything, he wanted a stranger he’d just met, and man he didn’t know.

Justin swallowed. He wanted. So much.



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