Part 30


"Hola."

"Hey there. It's 8:00. On. The. Dot. And look at this. You made it."

"Very observant of you, Timberlake," JC laughed smugly. His eyes laughed too. "I'm way impressed with your observation skills."

Justin backed up a little, opening his front door wider. His smile was one that elevated the right side only of his top lip over a row of his pearly-white teeth. The half-smile that Lance ragged him about standing in front of the mirror and practicing because it was just so dazzlingly perfect.

"Well, why don't you bring that impressed, smartass mouth of yours inside, Chasez?" he snickered.

JC stepped forward, and his little grin broke into an airy chuckle. "That's a good idea. Thanks. Nice pad you've got here, man. Security gate and the works. Wow. And you said it wasn't all fancy. Liar."

Justin gave the door a disinterested shove and hoped it would shut itself behind him. He was having a bit of trouble taking his eyes off the sight of JC sauntering into his house. He swallowed hard, watching, and felt that little rollercoaster-plunge swoosh in the pit of his stomach that he figured he'd always feel now every time he saw JC again for the first time.

"It's not all that fancy. Just a little cottage up here in The Hills. No huge deal. The security system came with it. Some TV actress owned it before me."

"Little cottage my ass!" JC stopped at the end of the foyer and glanced around, unaware of Justin's heavy (heated) stare focused on him. "This place is really sharp. And it's definitely got your vibe all over it, man. Absolutely."

Justin uprooted his bare feet from where they'd grown to the marble foyer floor and began walking toward his guest. JC wore an orange sleeveless T-shirt - a "muscle tee," Justin thought they were called - that hugged his long torso just right. His jeans were dark blue and low and snug around his hips, loose and comfortable everywhere else, worn and torn enough to be his favorite pair. His hair looked silky and shiny in the soft track lighting, as if he'd just come from the shower at the fitness center, and Justin's fingers fumbled against each other unconsciously, wanting to glide through it.

It amused him to notice that he recognized JC's black leather sandals too. He'd done a branding pitch once to the company that manufactured them. What amused him even more was the cute-as-hell little silvery toe band on JC's left foot, which he had definitely not noticed before. Damn. Was that an added-bonus sexy turn-on or what? As if there needed to be more. Damn.

"Thanks," he said breathily now to the compliments, slinking up next to JC, brushing JC's shoulder with his chest. Man, you look good enough to eat, I'm just saying. "I had a little remodeling done when I bought it. Miss Thang that lived here before, she had it looking all girlie and cutesy. Not much my style. I prefer a little more of a masculine motif."

JC brought his eyes around to meet Justin's. Their bright flecks of color swirled and shimmied with each other in there, like raindrops dancing on sunlight. Blatantly and shamelessly, he let them roam over Justin's face.

"Yeah, I hear ya. I've always had a thing for masculine over feminine myself."

Justin smiled again. He adored how they could already talk on several levels at once without missing a note.

"Lucky for me."

"For me too. What's her name?"

"Who?"

"That actress that used to crash here. Is she anybody famous? Like, would I know her?"

"Oh. Duh." Justin wanted to smack his own forehead. He'd already forgotten all about the house's former occupant. Hell, he'd forgotten about most of everything else too as of three minutes ago, for that matter. Damn that JC and the terrible power he had over him. "Um, let me think. Her name was Eva……….um, Langoria. No, Longoria. Something like that. I don't guess you could say she's exactly reached 'household-name' or 'diva' status yet. But who knows? I don't keep up. She used to do daytime soaps, but she moved 'up,' if you can call it that, to nighttime TV. So I heard. I think she's on that trashy new show 'Desperate Housewives' now. I don't watch it, but a shitload of other people do. They go on and on about it at work ad nauseam."

JC wrinkled his nose. "The one where all the chicks sleep around with anything with a pulse?"

Justin nodded, almost distracted again by a glimpse of JC's small, pert nipples poking through the T-shirt. "I'm sure that's it. She's the one kicking it with the lawnmower man or something like that. Lance and his partner are always yacking about it too. Like I said, don't tune in myself."

JC made another "ick" face. "The skinny chick with about a gabillion teeth?"

"Um hum. That's her. Do you watch it?"

JC shuddered and rolled his eyes. "Oh, hell no. But Kirkpatick does, man. And then proceeds to tell me all about it. As if I could care. He calls it 'Desperate Ho-Skanks,' and he gets off on it big-time. He even reads that gossip shit about the stars, and I'm pretty sure he said that Eva chick gets around and gets down that much in real life too, man." JC laughed. "CK needs help. Bad."

"Like she really is 'desperate'?"

"Like she really is a ho. Got as many boyfriends as she's got teeth."

Justin giggled and stepped closer. Inside, he was beginning to feel jittery and bristly in spite of the Heinekens he'd down since he'd come home.

"You look great, JC. I'm glad you're here. Did I say that already? Or just think it?"

JC smiled. "No, you didn't. But thanks. And I'm glad I'm here too. Oh, yeah. Here ya go. I couldn't come empty-handed. No matter how much you protested on the phone." He raised the bottle of wine he'd been holding, the one Justin hadn't even noticed in his hand. "I hope you're into Merlot."

"I'm very into Merlot. And you didn't need to do that, man."

JC shrugged. "Shhhh. But I did do it. So stop arguing and get over it."

Justin snickered again and took the bottle, grazing JC's hand with his own. "Thank you then. C'mon. Let me show you around, and we'll pop this open in the kitchen if you want."

"Sounds good to me." JC grinned and reached out to brush fingertips down Justin's bicep. "Lead the way."

~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~

"Man, does it smell awesome in here or what?" JC said, slowly looking around and taking in his surroundings, after Justin had walked him through the living room, pointed out the downstairs bathroom, and ended up in the large, well-equipped kitchen. "Hmm. Such gourmet-ish aromas. Making me hungry."

"Yeah, well, I'm not sure what aromas you're smelling. I haven't started the grilling yet. Just marinating," Justin answered hurriedly, bustling about behind the counter, nervously opening and closing drawers, looking for the corkscrew and breathing in quick audible spurts. "It takes, like, zero time to do it, so I figured I'd wait 'til you got here first. And don't expect gourmet-ish either, dude. I can manage edible, but not much more," he hushed, anxiously.

"So you're grilling? Really?"

"Really. One of those range-top deals built right in to the stove here in the countertop. Ceiling's ventilated too. For the smoke, you know. Designer kitchen also courtesy of Miss Thang," Justin said, slamming a cabinet door and not glancing up.

"The starlet actress girl? Ava?"

"Eva," Justin responded absently, tapping his palms against his thighs, a little rattled.

"Ava. Eva. Whatever. Nice kitchen. Hmm. I wonder if the hussy cooks. She doesn't look like she even eats."

"Hey, um, I hope chicken is okay," Justin mumbled, still darting his eyes around, preoccupied. "Chicken always seems to be the universally safe choice."

JC turned from his inspection of the kitchen to face Justin and smiled although Justin missed it. Silently, he slipped over nearer to where Justin fidgeted with the pantry door and shuffled his feet.

"Chicken is cool. Whatever you serve is cool. I'm easy," he sighed and giggled.

Absently, Justin spun around and plopped the corkscrew on the countertop. He huffed. "There's the bitch. Damn. How'd it get in there? Do you want a drink now, JC? There's your Merlot, of course, or chardonnay and beer in the fridge. And a full bar around the corner in the den. Anything you want."

"What I want," JC rasped, right beside Justin.

He'd sneakily moved around behind the counter as Justin flitted busily back there, and now stopped him completely with two strong hands clamped to Justin's hips. Standing in front of him, he used his body to push Justin backward against the surface of the wide refrigerator with gentle force.

"Is thissss," he whispered and pressed himself into Justin, his mouth falling full and hungry on Justin's. "Thissss is exactly what I want," he breathed steam into the kiss, stealing his tongue between Justin's wet lips to lick at the hot sweetness inside.

Justin writhed against him, pliant and warm, vibrating a soft moan from his own mouth over JC's, taking JC's hands off his hips and lacing their fingers together against their thighs, gripping tightly as their bodies did a slow grind of aching heat onto each other and the intense kiss burned through them.

Their chests panting against each other and their hearts thumping like thunder and lightning, JC swept his tongue over the beads of perspiration above Justin top lip. Then he lifted his eyes and looked into Justin's.

"Is that okay with you?" slid out of his mouth, as light as a single rose petal.

Justin blinked a couple of times, breathing in and out repeatedly. "Is that okay? What are you? Kidding me? Damn, that was whoa……….You're like a natural drug, man……….You're gonna get me hooked."

JC smiled and wet his lips. "Good. You feel a little better now? More relaxed? 'Cause you so need to chill some."

"Was I acting wired and psychotic?"

"Nah. Just a little tense. Jumpy. I was fearing there that your springs might snap."

Justin's nose twitched. Comfortable under the weight of him, he squeezed JC's hands in his own. "Sorry. Guess I was a little nervous."

"Don't be. It's just me."

"Okay. I just want everything to go right. Thanks for fixing me."

JC laughed, soft and light. "I'd been wanting to do that shit since I got in the front door."

"Hmm. I'm glad you finally did. And you get a wicked little kick out of pinning me up against things, don't you?"

JC smiled, narrowing his colorful eyes. "Maybe I do. You got a problem with that?"

"Did I say I had a problem with it?" Justin smiled back.

"You look great too tonight. Nice and casual. I forgot to say so before. You do golf shirts and jeans proud."

Justin felt two small fires blaze over his cheeks. "Thanks. And you know how to rock some jeans too. Would you like that drink now? I'll crank up the grill if you're starving."

JC rubbed against the length of Justin's body, hipbone to hipbone. "You said you have chardonnay?"

Justin tilted his head back against the sleek black fridge. JC's hardness was making him hard. And dizzy. "Right behind me. It's South African. A gift from Lance's boyfriend."

"Sounds perfect." JC smiled just faintly and licked his lips again, not for the phantom taste of the wine, but for something else tart and sweet, something else much more succulent and closer to his mouth than the wine. He leaned forward and brushed them over Justin's mouth again. "Now that you've tracked down that damn pesky corkscrew."

That surprise-dip-in-the-road rush slammed into Justin's gut again. He swallowed and sighed beneath the pulse and warmth of JC's body. "You kill me. I'm glad you're here. This is fun."

"Yeah. That's pretty much what I was thinking too."

~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~

The rest of the evening went off swimmingly, smashingly. When he was no longer being held against the fridge as JC's willing (erect) captive, Justin first uncorked both wines and poured a glass of the white for JC and a glass of the red for himself. Then he led his guest to the large patio that stretched across the entire back of the first floor of the house where the Shelties were eagerly awaiting to be introduced to the new stranger in the orange T-shirt and black sandals.

"That one's Delilah. She's a feisty little attention whore, I'm saying," Justin nodded and laughed as he held JC's wine glass at a safe distance in the air for him to squat down. "Samson's a little more laid back. But not much. So watch out."

As soon as he'd stooped to pet them, both small dogs had gone crazy over JC, yelping and hopping around spastically, wagging their tails and vying for the new affection. He steadied himself in the crouched position and rubbed both of them aggressively, talking and cooing to them and giggling as they licked his face.

"Are you guys excited or what? What does Daddy feed you? Crack?" he snickered and nuzzled their shiny fur.

Justin moved out of their way and laughed again. "Yeah, yeah. Daddy just never brings home any cool folks like this for them to wig out over. They're just so damn deprived."

JC laughed too as they both jumped up on his lap with their front paws. "Well, now, I'll have to have a little talk with Daddy about that, dudes. We'll work on that sad, sad situation. Okay?"

"Man, I warned you. They're some manic hyper asses. You should be around when it's bath time." Justin shook his head. "Unbelievable."

"Aww, they're adorable. Beautiful colors in those coats. You gotta dig 'em."

Justin smiled. JC genuinely liked his dogs. "They certainly dig you. But hey. No big surprise there. I knew they would……….Who the hell wouldn't?"

Slowly, JC turned his head and flashed a heart-melting grin up at him. "You'd better stop with the random flattery, Mr. Timberlake."

Justin shrugged and lifted his eyebrows innocently as he sipped his wine. "Why?"

~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~

With a second glass of the tangy chardonnay, JC sat at the high breakfast bar that split the kitchen in half and watched across the counter with obvious interest while Justin grilled the lemon-garlic chicken breasts and the skewered veggies on the other side. The glass of Merlot had tamed Justin's restless tensions, and he'd refilled his own glass when he'd poured JC another round. He stood between the grill and the stove and snapped the tongs he was turning with, enjoying the natural feel of JC sitting in his kitchen talking to him as he cooked.

"Major impressive, Justin. So you've mastered the culinary arts too. You just keep on wowing me, man."

Justin glanced up at his handsome audience of one and smiled. "It's no big thing. Anybody can grill."

"Anybody but me."

Justin's brow furrowed. "You mean there's something you can't do? No way!"

"Dude, my ass can barely handle micro-nuking some lame-ass Hot Pockets."

Justin snickered. "Well, if that's the case, maybe I'll just have to teach your ass to grill. If it wants to learn, that is."

JC tilted his glass to his lips and drank from it slowly, looking at Justin over the rim all the while. Then he grinned and dabbed the corner of his mouth with his tongue tip.

"You can learn my ass anything you want to learn it."

"Okay," Justin blushed, still smiling. "I'll keep that in mind. Trust me."

"So where's your cute little apron, Chef Timberlake?"

"Um, in the closet while you're here, Smartmouth Chasez. Certainly not on me." Justin laughed softly and stirred a pan of angel air pasta and Parmesan sauce with his wooden spoon.

"Not even if I beg?"

"No. No goofy-ass-looking aprons. Absolutely not. So hush about it." Justin shook the spoon at him.

JC chuckled, leaning on the bar with his elbows. "Maybe I'll just keep bugging you about it 'til you give in and wear the apron and nothing else……….Now that's what I'd like to see."

Justin grinned and rolled his eyes. "Stop it, JC. You're relentless. Quit."

"No fair. I did your request. Remember?" JC winked, making Justin flush pink again.

Justin sighed, the deep breath puffing out his lips. "Maybe next time. Okay? Will you shut the hell up about it, like, now?"

JC nodded, smiling. "I'll keep it in mind. Trust me."

~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~

They dined at the small, cozy table in the kitchen, with dimmed overhead lights and lit tapered candles the color of a deep amber sunset. JC ate heartily, even taking seconds, and told Justin several times how excellent he was finding it all. Justin watched him across the table, drinking him in with pleasure, reveling in his healthy appetite, noticing how strangely erotic and arousing it was to see him eat. He absently chewed his own bites of food and hardly tasted any of it. But it was a meal he knew he'd remember for a long time.

They finished off both bottles of wine as they finished off dinner, and when it was done, JC reached over the dishes between them to brush a droplet of the sweet red liquid across Justin's plump lower lip with his thumb.

"Delicious," he hissed. "Everything……….is delicious."

Justin gulped slowly, invisibly. "Glad you like."

"Where'd you learn your way around a kitchen anyway, Mr. Ad Man?"

Justin shrugged and glanced down at the table, shyly. "My mom. She's an awesome Deep South cook. And the Food Network too. Tyler Florence is HOT."

JC giggled. "Man, I should have known. You'll have to show him to me sometime."

"Deal. Want to grab some Kahlua or Frangelico and sit outside on the deck? The pooches are tucked away in the garage. Or we could watch a movie or something. I don't know what you're in the mood for now."

"Chilling on the deck sounds great. I'd love to. After we clear away the fallout here from dinner."

"I'm just piling it all in the dishwasher. That's what they're for, right? So no worries. You pour some drinks. I'll take care of this."

"Sure? I can help."

"Totally sure. I got it." Justin smiled as he shooed JC away. "Bar's in the den."

"I'll find it."



next

Email: whatweallwishfor@yahoo.com