Part 22


"You think you're all kinds of slick, don't you, Timberlake? You sneaky little sum-bitch," JC purred against Justin's ear as he slid up behind him at Avalon's bar and then hopped onto one of the high stools next to him. "You should SO be taken out and whipped you're so slick and sneaky."

Justin's cheeks flushed rosy-pink in the shadows of the hazily-lit room. "Yeah? And who, pray tell, is going to take me out and whip me? You, Chasez?"

"Maybe." JC grinned.

Sitting there, Justin felt warmed from the inside out, almost as if he were glowing. The shots of bourbon, "treats" from Sharon O, had contributed to that thermal effect. Sure. But JC's unearthly voice falling easily on his eardrum like spun silk had jacked up that warming into the red zone - first as he'd belted out Justin's requested tune while magically stroking the piano keys and then as he'd appeared at Justin's side just now and breathed a raspy, satiny whisper. But mostly, when JC had sat down and brushed his thigh against Justin's, Justin felt the heat soar through his veins like a tsunami. As if he'd swallowed the sun whole.

He turned a sly half-grin toward JC and blinked slowly. It was amazing to him how much the quick familiarity they were developing with each other was building up and strengthening his confidence in himself around this guy. It was a feeling he was liking more and more the stronger and stronger it became.

"Hmm. Right. Well, if I'm a sneaky sum-bitch, then YOU are quite the awesome performer, man. Damn. You were holding out on me, JC. I didn't have clue one you could sing! Especially like that!"

"And so you came in here cheating on our deal tonight and busted me out, eh?"

For a couple of anxious heartbeats, Justin studied him in the dense atmosphere around them, felt for the rhythm of his voice, making sure JC wasn't upset by this blatant blurring of the boundaries they'd set for this hookup. Making sure he hadn't fucked up.

"Hey. Sue me. I couldn't help myself. I've never seen the inside of this high-roller joint. I just wanted get a look around and maybe a 45-dollar cocktail too. I was just curious about where you work. I didn't expect to actually see you or fuck with your job. And I sure as hell didn't expect to hear you. That was really good, man. No kidding. You sounded great!"

JC shrugged and smiled, leaning forward to prop his arms on the bar and lowering his eyes to the smooth granite surface. Mellow warmth seemed to waft between them. And Justin seized the chance to stare at him a little longer. He was sure he detected a matching faint blush spread over those clean-shaven cheeks of JC's.

"It's a job, you know. Nothing special," JC mumbled quietly.

Justin leaned closer and pushed gently at his arm. He felt a twinge in his gut as their thighs bumped together again. "Um, wrong. That voice of yours is way more than just a job, JC. And it is something special. You could do something big with talent like that, man. Have you thought about it? Out here in L.A.?"

JC smiled again. It was really the same smile from before, only fuller and sleeker. Justin watched how it sent life up his face in rippling waves that crinkled the edges of his mouth and his eyes. When he spoke, it was demure and whispery.

"Ah, I doubt it. There's, like, a quabillion people in this town trying to make it happen with their acting or their music."

"Maybe so. But not with a voice like you've got, man. That range of your is incredible. Seriously. You didn't miss even one note or any little nuance or whatever. And the sound is rich, soulful, heart-moving. You make the music live and breath. And Jesus. Listen to me. Now I'm going all geeky and Spin magazine review on you. Haha. Sorry. But really. It was good." Justin's string of words, loosened inside by the alcohol, came hushing out in a hot whisper over JC. "Why didn't you mention it to me? That you could do this?"

"I don't know. So you wouldn't ever find out that I'm a bigger dorkus than you already suspected I am?"

Justin snickered. "A dorkus? For what?"

"For doing a Velveeta-cheesy-ass nightclub act in a Velveeta-cheesy-ass bar. True doofwad material there, thank you terribly fucking much."

Justin grinned and nudged him again. "Hello, JC? How full of crap are you? There's nothing cheesy or doofwad or any of your other funny little words about any of this. This place is high-class. Way off from a sleazy dive or anything close. And your singing is totally nothing to be embarrassed about, man. Are you listening to me?"

JC rolled his head around on his neck languidly. "I'm listening to you……….I just don't, you know, go around making a big-ass deal about it. Yeah, I came out here to maybe try my luck at the music industry. But other than this gig, nothing's been, like, sweeping out to grab me up. Nobody's been knocking down my door or anything like that……….I do it 'cause it feels good. And this is an easy gig too. The pay is good." He glanced up at Justin again, wry mysterious humor dancing in his eyes. "Like the gigantic bribe you sent over to the piano, you evil little brat."

Justin laughed. "Aww, c'mon now. That wasn't a bribe. It was a tip. And it SO wasn't gigantic either. It should have been way more than it was since you nailed my tune request to the damn wall, man. You did that fucker better than that boy-band did it way back when it was theirs. You own it now. You took it. Totally."

"Totally, eh? Liar. You give me too much credit, Justin. I'm not all that. Stop with all your pimping."

"You're the liar, JC," Justin whispered, his breath as warm as his tone. "Is this why you wanted to meet up somewhere else? So I wouldn't discover how good you are?"

JC dropped his head and his gaze to the cool surface of the bar again. "So you wouldn't get scared off."

"Scared off? I told you I'm crazy about music. All kinds of music. And I love live music. No kidding."

"Well, well, now! Here you two are! A pair of Pravda crantinis for the hottest couple of lads in the place!" Sharon O suddenly and enthusiastically appeared in front of them on the smoothly-lit side of the bar, smiling as bright as her fiery spikes of hair and easing two beautifully enticing deep-scarlet cocktails toward them. "On the house, mates, because I like ya. And C, babe, you never sounded better than you did tonight," she rasped out, looking directly at JC and then brushing Justin's forearm lightly with those deadly red fingernails and winking. "Your friend here's mad easy on the peepers just like yourself. Good to see he wasn't alone this evening after all. He should bring himself 'round these parts more often if he can get you to sound like a bloody angel like that. Hmm? Get my drift?"

JC gave her a big smile in return. Below the bar, his leg shifted nervously, grazing Justin's knee. "Thanks, Mrs. O. You're a doll, as always. And as for my, um, friend here, he's, you know, in bloody stalker mode this evening, tracking me down at the Monarch and all. I sort of wasn't expecting him, um, so soon." He laughed softly.

Sharon giggled and winked again. "Ah, no worries there, hon. You're definitely stalker-worthy. Hell, if I was 10 years younger, I'd be all over stalking you myself. Now enjoy the lovely drinks, boys. Cheers."

Justin thanked her by taking her small hand in his and kissing it lightly. Then he waited 'til she'd spun around and waltzed off out of their presence again. He turned to JC and sighed, the paranoia and worry darkening his eyes once more.

"JC, I'm sorry, man. I shouldn't have broken the plans and come here like this. I wasn't trying to pry into your business or put you on the spot. Honestly. I was just curious. And, okay, I was anxious too. That's all."

JC looked over his face slowly and nudged his knee. "It's no sweat, man. No big deal. I'm a little, well, flattered, you know, that you'd venture in here and do this. Nobody's ever done that before, checked me out like that. It's nice. And different. I like it."

Justin didn't confess to him that this was the second time he knew of that JC had been "observed" without being aware of it. And he cursed Lance for all his bad-boy influences on him. But, at JC's words and tone, his brow slowly unfurrowed and relaxed. His foot stopped the fidgety tapping on the rung of the barstool.

"Sure? You're not pissed?"

"Do I look pissed?" JC smiled.

Justin snickered and sipped his drink, enjoying the slow, icy burn of the vodka down his throat. He cut his eyes over to glance at JC again. A little bit of seduction glowing in them. "Absolutely not. You do that black suit proud, by the way. It looks damn good."

JC elbowed him and snickered, almost spilling his own glass. "Now see? That is why I didn't want your nosy little ass in this gig sniffing me out, dude! Here you go already, dawging on me 'cause I can't carry the dressy 'business man' style off like you can!"

Justin turned in his seat to get a better up-and-down eyeful of JC's long frame folded in the high barstool. Then he tilted his head to the side and smiled, like thick, slow-moving molasses. "Maybe you didn't hear me. I said it looks good. Damn good. You look good. All dawging aside."

Was that another reddish tint creeping across JC's chiseled cheeks? Or just the warm reflection of his cool crimson drink?

"Thanks, man. And so do you. Look good. All dawging aside."

Satisfied and comfortable now, Justin picked up his martini-type glass again. "And your bartender friend is insane, the bloody best. She's mad hilarious."

"Yeah, good ol' Mrs. O will keep a dude entertained. That's for sure. She's a riot. My friend Chris loves coming down here and sitting here talking smack with her all night long. While getting himself wasted off his ass - or 'arse,' as she calls it - too, of course. It's great 'cause you never have a damn clue what the hell either of them will say next."

Justin giggled. "Sounds like Lance. Shooting the shit and drinking. Two of his all-time specialties. They'd get along fabulously." For a tense, split second, he wondered how he'd respond if JC suddenly remembered running into a "Lance" in Santa Monica the day before. Oh, bloody hell.

But JC didn't seem to recall the chance meeting at all. He laughed too, feeling the fine hairs along his arm stand up with the silky current of Justin's fingers casually grazing the back of his hand. "So are you hungry yet? I can go and change into something more comfortable when I finish my crantini here or whatever the hell she called it. There's a little place next to Raine where we can get some grub if you want."

"Grub." Justin laughed breathily, warm and relaxed from the primo alcohol. From JC's smile. "You say the oddballest things, JC. But I like it all. All your weird little words and stuff. They're so funny. And yeah. Getting some grub. That would be just awesome."

This time, JC did the winking. "Cool. Then sit right here, and I'll be right back."

"I'm not going anybloodywhere."



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