(Author's Note: For clarity, please be aware that italicized sections are a succession of flashback scenes.) ["Tangled in your hair, tail between my legs, I'm a puppy for your love."] "You know what? You should do one thing every day that scares you, scares you enough to make your heart skip a few beats. It's good for you." "Really? Who said that?" The kiss, moments ago, had been hot, so hot, and gentle. Had burned slowly, writhing from one wet mouth to the other with a life of its own, and had lasted for a whispered eternity. Now lingers breathlessly in the shadows of the hotel room, in the warm air between their lips after it has released them. "I did." "Hmm. And some people say you're the smart one, the wise one." "Well, maybe I am. I got *you*, didn't I?" "Finally. After, like, a century or so. Why'd you wait so long? I was there for the taking all along." "Baby, baby, baby. I waited for you to grow up some and know what you really wanted. And why you wanted it. It had to be right. To get to this point, where we are right here and right now, the beginning had to be right. It just took some time." There's a pause, quietness in the semi-dark except for the soft sliding sounds of limbs shifting and entwining tighter around each other, of hipbones nudging closer together, of sheets yielding to two bodies becoming one. "It's right now. This, where we are right here and right now, feels right." "Yes. Totally. So maybe I *am* the smart one." "Maybe you're the gorgeous genius." "And maybe you're the plain-crazy brat." "I think I've always wanted you. That's what I think now. It feels like always. It just took me a while to see it." "That century we waited." "What do you think the other guys will say? When we tell them?" is whispered breathily, with the buoyant eagerness of youth. "Oh, I don't know. Something like 'Congratulations, dudes'? Or 'Duh, you two. We've known from the start'? Or maybe 'You're *together* together? Cool! More chicks for us'?" There is that silky, feathered laugh. The one that infected and tickled. The one that flirted with your soul. "Let's tell them soon, okay? Like before the 'No Strings' record comes out. It'll be like fresh, new beginnings all the way around. You know what I mean?" "Yes. I know exactly what you mean. You're such a romantic dork. And okay. Whenever you want to do the big coming-out announcement scene, we'll tell them. Seriously, though, I don't think they'll be all that surprised, really." "Why not? We've been discreet." The feathery laugh fades to a puffy pout. "Well, we'll see if they think so." "Hey, that thing you said, about doing something every day that scares you." "Yeah? What about it?" "*You* scare me. You make my heart skip lots of beats. All the time. Or maybe it's how much I love you that's so scary. I never cared about anybody this way, this much, before. That's frightening." "You're eighteen, for chrissakes. When in the hell would you have worked that into your short life before now?" "Even so. It's kind of scary. Good scary, though. Don't-want-to-ever-be-without-it scary." "I love you too, you know." "I know. That's scary too. Guess we've got the scary thing covered then, hmm?" "Baby, baby, baby. I'm here. Right here with ya. I've got ya. All the way. And if you want, I'll gladly be the scary thing you *do* every day." "You are definitely the gorgeous genius……….perv," the feathery snicker returns. ~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~ The recent past……. "Bring your ass back in here, Chasez! This is the shit we've been waiting all afternoon for, man! Your boy's on stage strutting his stuff with that sweet-ass Janet J. Get in here!" Rob yelled out from the den, a little too excitedly, with his wide bloodshot eyes glued to the huge, flat television screen and his arm draped sloppily around his girlfriend on the couch. "Yeah, man! There he is! The wee lad Timberlake! With his scraggly little beard and his size-eighty-seven Dockers hanging off his skinny butt," Carlos added in thick slurs, sitting up and scooting forward on the loveseat to squint at the TV, forgetting for a second about his own date. "What a fucking mess he looks. Must be a bitch of a hangover he's got. Wasn't yesterday his birthday, C? Look at him following her around up there, wanting to get his hump on like she's a dog in heat." "Yeah, but she looks good striding around in all that black leather garb. Damn good. And hot," Rob drooled and laughed. His girlfriend slapped his arm and rolled her dark, exotic eyes. "C? Where are you, bro? Don't you want to see this shit? Your boy had a birthday and didn't send you an invite to the par-tay, man? That is low!" Dale shouted, between deep swallows from his mug of beer. He stood, not very steadily, behind where Carlos was seated and kept tossing glances over his shoulder toward the kitchen where JC, their host for the afternoon, had disappeared when the Halftime Show had begun. "Hey, you guys. Try waking up. Are you that toasted?" Tony asked quietly from a dark corner of the room where he sat stretched out comfortably on a chaise lounge with a tall rum-and-Coke and Shane, his date. "What, man?" someone asked without turning to him. "Hello? Justin's not C's boy. Not anymore. Did you dumbasses somehow manage to forget that little detail?" Tony answered, in the soft but firm tone of a parent gently correcting an unruly child. "Oh, that's right. The infamous on-again/off-again romance," Dale chuckled. "Off-again right now, isn't it? And Timberlake's been pulling out the straight card for, like, a year or so now, hasn't he?" "Yeah, been schmoozing and coozing it up with that Dameron Kee-snazz stuff," Rob slurred and giggled. "She the one got him looking all homeless-bum out there today is my guess. Man, somebody get that boy a Schick twin-blade and some clothes that fit his crazy ass." "So he dropped C like a bad habit when he hit the solo big-time and decided he likes chicks now instead? Is that how it worked?" Dale asked and burped obnoxiously, well on his way to passing out cold drunk later. "No, man. Where've you been lately? Outer space?" Tony smirked. "Out of the loop, man. Off the social scene. Working. Cut me some slack." Tony sighed and sipped his cocktail. He slipped his arm around Shane, and they snuggled closer in the tight confines of the lounge. "Well, the history of the thing is like this. Jive started up with their same ol' crap about a year ago, right when Justin kicked off his summer tour in the states. You know, started pressuring him to do another one of their notorious high-profile relationships, said it would look good if he hooked up again with somebody famous after his 'broken-heart drama' with Britney. So the lovely Miss Diaz was available and had made some comment to somebody about always having a little crush on J or some shit like that. All really superstar convenient, right? So they got her on the payroll when she decided it'd be mega-exposure for her as well as for J. So……….well, he and C thought it might be a good time to take a break from each other and work on their solo careers. That's all. End of story." "So a year later?" Dale frowned, skeptical. "They're still breaking from each other a year later? Still end of story?" "Man, Dale, I can't believe you don't keep up with current events any better than this." Tony rolled his eyes. "Dude, I've had shit going on. Sue me. I'm just saying……….they never split up for this long before, have they? Weren't they always lots tighter than this?" "They've both been busy with their own things, man. Really busy. Too busy to worry about it," Carlos chimed in once more and flipped his hand in the air dismissively, staring fixedly at the TV. "C's fine with it. He's been busting his butt with the club tour and promoting the CD and not focusing on much else. And, you know, they still talk, him and Justin, once in a while. They're still friends. He's good with it all." "Chasez!" Rob turned and shouted again. "Bring your ass back in here, ass! You don't wanna witness this overblown spectacle, man?" "Been there. Witnessed it," JC answered finally, a bit apathetic and muffled from the kitchen. "Justin Timberlake on a stage performing is nothing new to me, man. Remember?" "But dude! This is Super Bowl Halftime I'm talking about! That's large!" "Large? So fucking what?" JC hissed and laughed, determined to have neither his party nor his mood wrecked by anything. Not even the Halftime "performers." "I. Am. Making. Myself. A. Drink, man. Chill out, will ya?" "For an hour you're in there making yourself a drink? Liar. You're avoiding us, fucker. We're you're guests, dude." Dale laughed. "And I can remedy that in about a heartbeat if I need to, you know. So just keep it up in there, shithead," JC called out, and Dale laughed harder. "This time next week, C will be shaking his booty on a field like that in one of these mega-hyped football gigs. He ain't needing any tips from Timberlake on how-to," Carlos said and grinned. "Man, you got THAT right," JC added, snickering, as he slid lithely back into the den holding his filled glass. "And what the fuck is with all the yacking in here? You drunken pieces of shit think I can't, like, hear you talking about me like I'm in a damn coma? And what's the big urgency on watching this anyway? I'm Tivo-ing it. It's cool. Have some more egg rolls. Or a fucking chicken wing. And shut up." "Woo hoo. C-dawg is feeling feisty, yo. Watch out." "Feeling bitchy is more like it. Haha." "You almost missed it, C. It's about over," Carlos told him, settling back into the warmth of the girl beside him. "All pretty lame and tame if you ask me." "Yeah, man. Yawn." Tony chuckled. "Move along, folks. Zilch to see here." "Unless Miss Jackson gets your blood flowing and your peter thumping," Dale added and drained his beer mug, still standing. "That would be moi!" Rob giggled, raised his hand, and got it batted down again by his sullen, sober girlfriend. "Whore," she pouted at him, and he hugged her playfully at their banter. Standing by the couch where they sat, JC laughed hysterically, his eyes trained trance-like on Justin's slick, choreographed movements on the wide, screen dominating the room. As if they'd defied his strong intentions of looking at anything BUT that screen and had taken in the view with magnetic willingness. All up on Janet and in the center spotlight of the nation's rapt attention, Justin was about to serenade her with the final hook of his song. "Gonna have you naked by the end of this song --" "Wait. Was that?" "Holy. Shit." "No, he didn't!" "Score!" "Are you fucking kidding me? I didn't just see some Janet nipplage, did I? Was that real?" "Talk about boob tube. Man. That was just………..I dunno." "Chasez! Did you see your boy out there? Damn! He's some kind of nasty now, I'd say!" JC's only outward reaction, as he stood with his back to most of them, was a pronounced smirk and a sway of his hips. "He's not my boy. And who cares anyway? It looked like a fucking setup to me, man. A big, fat hoax." His voice had come out hard and gravelly. As he upended the full contents of his cocktail glass down his throat, he shuddered with the burn of the alcohol and the odd premonition that the repercussions of what he'd just seen would mutate into far more than a simple little hoax. "Yeah, yeah, agreed. Totally contrived and melodramatic," Tony whispered, watching JC from behind. He alone had caught the quivering of his broad shoulders. "I hope they don't expect us to buy that shit as an accident or something." "Yeah, man. How hammy can you get? What a media slut. Jesus. Some ho's will do anything for some face time on camera and some press ink, won't they?" "Shut the fuck up, Carlos," JC growled without glancing around at him. And for the span of five or six heartbeats, the only sound in the room was the debut of yet another crackpot commercial on the tube during Super Bowl Sunday. "Sorry, C. I meant her. I wasn't ripping on Justin," Carlos back-peddled meekly. "Fine. It's over, so let's put on some tunes 'til the game cranks up again. Cool with everybody?" JC spun around slowly but didn't make eye contact with anyone. "Sure, man. I'm on it." "Anybody hungry?" he asked as he reached for the remote and muted the TV. "I ordered a shitload of pizzas when I was vacationing back there in the kitchen. They'll be here pronto. And now I need another drink." ~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~ "Wow……….Damn……….That was………tight. Let's do it again, while we have time. C'mon. Once more. Then I promise I'll let you sleep. Please?" "Christ on a crutch. Let me catch my breath, baby. I'm old, you know." "You're not old. Stop that." "I'm older than you." "Not to me. To me, we're the same. Equal in everything. Like we're one." "Ah, the young romantic fool speaks." Together and horizontal in another bed in another hotel room in another city during another tour. Moments after a smoldering exchange of each other's bodies - a gift of love from one to the other - that had left them aching for breath, damp and slick with warm perspiration. One long finger traces a path through the shiny moisture on the other's chest, slowly down over skin that covers a racing heart and rippling muscles, over a belly button pooled with sweat, over thick black pubic hairs and tender flesh that shivers at the familiar touch. "I love you. What else am I supposed to say?" "You can say you love me. I don't mind hearing that." "Even after a gabillion hundred times?" "Even after a gabillion hundred times." "What we going to do?" "Hmm. Make love again. As soon as I'm fucking able to. That's what I thought you wanted to do." "No. I mean after this road trip. After the tour is over. During the long hiatus. You and me. What are *we* going to do?" "Well, you've got your songs to write. Gotta have songs to put on that solo record, don't you? It would kind of, like, suck otherwise, wouldn't it? Probably nobody would buy it, you know, without songs. I'm just saying." The chuckle was soft and gentle and wrapped in affection. "No, babe. Us. What are *we* going to be like?" "Baby, baby, baby. We'll be like we are now. I hope. We'll just be a little less 'visible' to the public. We won't be out there every day like now. We can be 'us' in private." "But the 'we' part. That won't change, will it?" "Why would it? We've known each other for-" "For always. The past, the now, and the forever." The light from two silver-blue eyes narrows a bit with the flesh-crinkling smile that's a reaction to the words from the young romantic fool. "Okay. Then if we change at all, we change together." "Exactly. That's the way I'm seeing the future." "Through your young romantic foolish eyes." "Shut up. You love my romance. And my eyes." "I love you. For always." "Me too. Same. Ditto." "Hey, you know what? I think I'm ready to go another round now, baby. If you've still got game." "I'm gonna have game for you always." "You are such a corny, idealistic punk." "And you're a sexy motherfucker." "You're on bottom this time around. I'm getting sore." "I'll bottom. If that's what you want. No problem." "You're what I want." "Corny, sexy motherfucker." ~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~ ["The time apart, it's just a hole in me now."] "Hey, C. You okay, man?" Tony asked in a raspy whisper, so as not to startle anyone as he eased into the brightly lit kitchen from out of the hallway. JC was the only soul in the kitchen, however, since all of the other Sunday afternoon party guests had left already except for Tony his date. Tony watched as he shuffled around distractedly, doing basically nothing, looking at basically nothing, sipping his drink, and occasionally flaying a hand in the air. Tony's voice caught him a little off-guard, and he spun around and squinted. "Tony! Hey, man! No, I'm cool. C'mon in here. You want another cold one? What's your poison tonight, buddy?" "Nah, nothing for me, thanks. Shane is in the john. We maybe should shove off when he's done. The party was a blast, man. Thanks for having us." "You don't have to go! The night's young. We're West Coast dwellers!" JC laughed, his eyes dull with vague, unreal enthusiasm. "C, are you really okay? Justin's little stunt tonight - or maybe just Justin himself - seemed to shake you up a bit, man. Talk to me." "I'm okay, Tony. I told you." JC paced the kitchen, his flip-flops dragging across the floor. "It wasn't a big thing. I see him constantly. It doesn't bother me. He's, like, everywhere, you know." "Yeah, but she's everywhere too, Jace. With him." "Doesn't matter." JC brushed it off and drank his cocktail down in thirsty gulps. "Why didn't he come back this last time, man? Why's he still with her and not with you?" The shattering clash of JC's crystal glass hitting the back wall with abrupt and sudden full force rattled Tony, and he jumped. Not expecting a violent reaction to his question, he was now the startled one in the room. Busted shards rained to the floor. "He did. Come back. Once," JC whispered, sounding broken like the glass. "In South Beach. Last summer at Challenge. He sent her away and spent all of his spare time with me……….We were together again, and it was……….three days and nights in the Garden of fucking Eden……….Paradise, man. We were totally cool and with each other like the old days, like we used to be……….But it didn't last. Just like in the old story, that damn evil snake slithers back in around Shangri-La and fucks it all up……….and he was gone again before I even knew it." He won't tell Tony how, later, when he was alone again and aching, how his wounded psyche convinced his broken heart that Justin had just been using him that whole weekend in Miami for some ultra-convenient hotboysex like he knew he'd neverfuckingever find as good anywhere else but in JC's bed and that that had been all he'd wanted from JC. He won't tell Tony or anyone else how much it had hurt to suspect that. Or how many crystal glasses he'd demolished against the various walls of his house. Tony huffed, frustrated and confused. "Why doesn't he just end it, man? I don't get it. Am I missing something here?" "I don't know. Maybe he likes her." JC's sneer was bitter, acidic. "I doubt that, C. He loves you." JC said nothing, but the dark, hot, sultry glare he shot upward and across the room at his long-time friend was bleeding venom. And aching. Tony stood still in the presence of such heated, extreme of passion. "If that's even true, it doesn't count for much, does it?" "Did you talk to him yesterday, on his birthday?" "I tried. Left him a message on his cell……….I haven't missed one of his birthdays since we've known each other……….I sent a gift too. Through Lynn……….But he hasn't called back. Whatever. Doesn't matter." "Maybe he's been insane busy, Jace." "Yeah. That's quite fucking obvious." And JC swung over to the counter that was loaded with liquor bottles, grabbing a random one up by the neck and dousing some sloppily into a nearby unsmashed plastic cup. "Gotta stop destroying the valuables," he groaned, almost too low to be heard. "C, look." Tony stepped forward, concerned. "You want to talk? I'll call a cab to get Shane home, and I'll stay. We can talk. Just us." JC snorted and turned toward the ice bucket next to him. "I tole you I'm fine. Thanks, man. But all's okay-dokay." "C, this is me you're talking to, man. Not just anybody. I know you. And I know him too. For a long-ass time. You get my drift? I saw you tonight. You shook a little during the nipple-unveiling thing. Maybe we all did a little. That was just wrong……….But you actually got up and vamoosed out of the room when the cameras spotted J and Cam up in the skybox smooching and shit. I was watching, babe. You're not fooling me." "Public display of affection is fucking sickening, dude," JC snarled and swirled ice cubes around in the tangy liquid he'd poured. Then he drank from the cup quickly and deeply. "I'm sure it was even more fucking sickening for you." "He's a different person now. After being with her……….Different in a lot of ways." "Besides the ways I can see for myself, you want to explain?" "Take your boy home, Tony. He's a nice guy, and he seems to really like you. Man, I thought you were bringing a chick over when you said 'Shane.' When you walked in, I was like 'Whoa, it's a dude. Check Tony out.' You know?" Tony smiled and blushed. "Yeah, it never hurts to dig both. More choices that way, man. And Shane is good for me right now. I've sort of fallen hard for him." "That's cool. And it looks good on you too. I'm serious. So take him home. Have yourself a real evening. I'll be fine, man." JC flicked his wrist to wave at the air coolly and cut off the conversation. He didn't want to "explain" anything else. "Tell me something, C. Just one little thing." "Sure, man. What?" "Do you miss Justin?" "Fucking yes." JC choked out in a hiss of a whisper after a few seconds. "Are you crazy?" "Me too. I miss the two of you together. Those were the day, man." "Yeah. Whatever." "C'mere. Give me a hug. Look like you need one." JC didn't "c'mere." He didn't move at all. But Tony went to him, embraced the thin body in the warmth of his own, and wasn't surprised in the least when JC silently clung to him as if he were trying desperately to soak up what little solace Tony could provide. ~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~ ["As in any good fairy tale, danger is forever lurking close by.] "You're sick, babe. Let me take care of you. Stop being so damn ornery." "Go away. I feel like shit. I look like shit. You're an asshole. Go away." "Jace, baby, c'mon now. Cut it out. You look gorgeous. Yeah, yeah, I know you don't *feel* gorgeous, but I'm trying to fix that. Now sit up, shut up, and eat this soup. We've got an awards show to do tonight, and you're not flaking out. If I must go, then you must go too. Hear me?" "Wrong. YOU have an awards show to *perform* at, baby. All by your cute little self. For the first time in music history. And me? I'm just sniffly, achy window dressing. They won't miss me." "Stop it, Jace. I hate it when you talk like that. Even if you're fucking kidding. And *I* would miss you if you're not there." "I am infirmed, baby. Look at me. Bad cold. Coughing. Hacking. Snot. Lugies. Nasty. You're the popular, solo megastar, love. You go. Take Chris. Take Joe. Channel Lance from Russia." "But you're the sexified elusive one they all want to see, babe. I'd rather take you. The others can come if they want." "Barf. I'd rather not have *that* mental image in my head, thank you very much. The others 'coming.' Eeww." The satiny giggle and sky-blue gaze drive over the patient, and the young "nursemaid" brushes his feverish forehead gently. "Yeah, I hear ya, babe. Eat your soup. I love you……….You're the one I want there with me, for me. I don't think I can do it if you're not there. Please, Jace. Don't leave me out there alone." "Justin." "Yes." "We have a good thing, don't we?" "We have the best of things, Jace." "And nothing's going to fuck with that, right, baby?" "Nothing, Jace. Fucking nothing." "Where are we going to go if something does fuck with it, J? What will we do?" "Jace, don't tear my heart out here, babe. We'll be fine. Okay? We just have to do these things, these appearances and whatnot. You know. We're famous. It's part of the game." "You're *more* famous, especially after tonight. Let's not be naïve." "Let's not do superlatives right now, Jace. It's not a popularity contest. I just want to get you better. That's what I care about." "Superlatives. Wow. Five-star word there, baby." "Jace, please. Skip the sarcasm, please. Your sickness is making you introspective and insecure." "Hmm. Maybe it's not the sickness, love." "Quit it, Jace. Please. We need to heal you. And not just for tonight. I want you to be okay. Okay? Just because." "Because you love me." "Yes. I do love you. Always." "Justin. Baby, baby, baby……….You know I wouldn't miss you up there doing your first solo act, don't you? No fucking way. Wild horses and all that……….Now where's that soup? Or were you just bluffing?" The smile is gentle and sudden, and the sky-blue eyes glisten with impromptu teardrops. "Not bluffing, babe. I got your back. I'll take care of you. Trust me." "I do. I think."