Part 32


Somewhere down on some obscure level of his brain, Justin figured the bedroom was probably thick with the ripe, natural, fleshly fragrance like two guys had been having sex with each other in it all night. But he wasn't consciously thinking about it nor letting it bother him. Two guys had been having sex with each other in here all night. So if the shoe fits……….

Okay. Not all night. They'd gotten a little sleep. When they'd physically (ohsodamndeliciouslyandphysically) exhausted each other too much to do anything but sleep.

Justin lay there in the sheets he knew he'd need to wash later, perfectly still and perfectly relaxed. As if he'd slept deeply for many hours. As if everything in the tiny Timberlake world was, well, perfectly perfect.

Because of the long, warm body beside him that breathed in a slow, steady rhythm and occasionally let out a little whimper or grunt as it snoozed so peacefully. Because the smell filling his head right now wasn't the lingering scent of torrid, all-night fucking but rather the intoxicating essence of Morning JC.

Justin turned his head on the pillow again to gaze at the man stretched out there next to him in his bed. How he lay on his stomach with his arm bent upward in half so that his fingers curled under his scruffy chin. How the sheet just barely covered the low rise of his ass and how the smooth planes of his back soaked in small streaks of early sunlight that had snuck in through the blinds over the window. How the dark, disheveled layers of hair fell down on his forehead and across his bristled cheek in a beautifully chaotic mess.

If I had three wishes handed to me out of the mysteries of the cosmos right now, I'd use them ALL to make sure I could wake up next to this every morning I ever wake up again. I certainly would.

"Morning."

Justin's startled breath doubled back on itself in his throat at the sound of the soft, thick whisper. He hadn't been focused on the sleepy silvery-blue eyes when they'd opened. But he stared at them now, fascinated by how the colors deepened to darker shades as they woke up, bewitched by how they smiled at him and pulled him in.

"Hey. Good morning back," he whispered and scooted closer.

"Was I snoring?"

"No. Why?"

"You're already awake. I didn't hear your heroic-ad-executive-by-day alarm go off."

Justin smiled, his thigh hot against JC's. "I woke up just before it buzzed and shut it off. My body clock, I guess. I get up this time almost every day."

JC blinked slowly, a whimsical glint in his pupils. "Sure I didn't kick you or something crazy like that?"

"You didn't kick me."

"And if I did, you wouldn't tell me, would ya? 'Cause you're nice and polite like that." JC winked. His voice was raspy still from sleep.

Justin reached up to brush a few wavy strands of hair off JC's temple. "Will you stop it, Jace? I was afraid as hell that I'd kicked you……….since I'm so not used to sleeping with another body in bed with me."

"Same here. That's why I keep asking, see. I gotta be sure."

"Well, you didn't kick me. So there. Did you sleep well?"

Beneath the sheet, JC shifted onto this side, facing Justin, and slid his body nearer to him so that he could lay his forearm and palm down the middle of Justin's bare chest. "Very. You throw a kick-ass slumber party, Mr. Timberlake."

Justin grinned slyly, his heart beating a little faster with JC's fingertips strumming over it. "Well, I'm awfully glad you could come, Mr. Chasez."

JC snickered. "Me too. Because I so did."

"As did I. Thanks to you."

"It was the least I could do."

Justin felt a hint of a blush swell over his cheeks. JC's eyes were stealing his breath away with their so-close gaze. "Would you like some coffee? I've got some brewing up downstairs."

"Aww, damn." JC rolled over halfway onto Justin and groaned into his shoulder. "We have to get up, don't we? Fuck. Why can't we just stay in bed all day?"

Justin sighed a quiet laugh and laced his fingers through JC's stray curls. "I wish. Like hell."

"This is a cool-ass bed too, J. It's totally perfect. A bed big enough for……….everything."

Justin shivered a little at the feathery sensation of JC's long eyelashes against his skin. "My mom got it for me when I moved in this place. My housewarming gift. I picked it out, but she bought it."

"You're tight with your mom, eh?"

"Yeah. I'm her only child. We've always been close and stuff. She moved out here a year after I did 'cause she missed me so much. She thought we were way too far away from each other……….It's a little embarrassing. And a lot pathetic."

JC turned his head against Justin's shoulder, and his hot mouth grazed Justin's throat. "It's not pathetic. It's great. You're luckier than you know. I wish I could see my folks more than I do."

"Hmm. Where are they?"

"They live right outside Chicago. Tyler and me, we usually make the trek back there only on the big holidays. You know, the ones that count. It sucks working all the damn time."

"Tyler's your brother?"

"Yep. The only one. He's younger. Heather, my sister, she's younger too. She moved all the way to New York last year. She's always on my ass to come over there with her. She's convinced I could rack up in dough getting myself an agent and playing some swank clubs in Manhattan. She says the streets are lined with them, like I'd have no trouble getting great gigs. Blah, blah, blah."

Justin snickered. "Maybe you should give it a shot. It's what you want to do, right? The music thing? And you're so good at it too."

"Eh, I've thought about it. Not sure how keen I am on that particular scene, though. You know what I'm saying? I'm just not quiet as familiar with that whole East Coast vibe. It's hard to explain."

Justin didn't answer at first. His fingers smoothed over JC's shoulders and down the muscles in his back. Gently. "Hmm. Manhattan would be a long damn commute every Thursday for racquetball," he whispered.

JC giggled and rubbed at the pinkish bite mark on Justin's collarbone. "Maybe you'd have to get yourself another coach."

"Maybe I would not. Where would I find another one as all-around excellent as the one I've got now? Hmm? And man, I'm committed to that 8:00 slot. I'm serious. But only with that coach. To hell with it otherwise."

JC breathed warmly against Justin's neck. "Don't sweat it. New York City is out of the question……….I've got everything I want right here in good ol' L.A."

Justin smiled, tickled by JC's mouth on his sensitive flesh. His heart skipped a thud or two with JC's last few words. "Me too."

"I see your little injury is disappearing nicely."

"Yeah. So I'll need another one soon, you know."

JC laughed. "Ah, I think I can take care of that for you."

"You'd better," Justin whispered, thinking how his arms were exactly the right length for fitting around JC's body.

"Hey, um, I'm working out in Pasadena today at the stables that Tyler manages. And he usually likes to go out and grab some grub and maybe slam back a few at a local bar when I'm around to go out with him. So I won't be home 'til late tonight. Just FYI."

Justin smiled to himself again, pleased that JC felt like freely giving him that kind of information without being asked. "That's totally cool. I've got dinner with the mom tonight. Something we do every Tuesday. See? I told you. Pathetic."

JC slid his long, thin leg against Justin's. His chest felt hot and tight against Justin's chest. "Aww, c'mon. It's sweet. Does she know about you being gay?"

"Oh, yes. She's big-time proud and, um, shall we say, involved. Sometimes a little overboard so." Justin rolled his eyes.

JC giggled. "So can I give you a buzz when I get in tonight?"

"Absolutely. I'll be here."

"Cool……….And that coffee smells damn good."

Justin grinned, amazed at how comfortable and easy he felt lying there in his bed completely naked with a completely naked, and deliciously warm, JC at his side. "It's Starbucks' special blend. My favorite. It's all I buy."

JC raised his head off Justin's shoulder, his eyes bright and alive and again intent on Justin's, surprise blossoming over his full lips. "No way! I thought it smelled familiar! How in the hell did you know I worship at the alter of the 'Bucks, man?"

With the pad of his middle finger, Justin massaged around JC's small nipple until it budded up for him. "I didn't know. Coincidence, I guess. Lucky for me."

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

"Dude, the guy was s-m-o-o-t-h smooooooth as buttah, I'm talking. Motherfucker, you should have seen those slick moves he had……….awesome backhand swing, surprise-attack forward lunge, fast-as-fuck slam-dunk volley two inches over the net without even a whisper of touching that bitch……….I'm not lying, man. Yeah, he had some hustle in his blood. The dude was all over that fucking court and not even breaking a sweat doing it too," Wade was spouting quite loudly in his raspy voice with unusual vibrant enthusiasm as Justin neared the copywriters' "bullpen" on his way to the production studio at work that morning.

"You paid money to go and check out this guy sweating, Robson? Pervert much, you damn queer bait?" Joe snickered devilishly in response. "Stay the hell on your side of the room, man. Don't be bringing your overt gayness near me."

"Listen, man. The dude was scorching hot, no joke. And I had him so fooled too, Fatone," Wade went on as if Joe hadn't just verbally slapped him in the face, as if he hadn't said a word at all. "He didn't have clue one that I've been playing that jive-ass game for years and needed his help like I need a new asshole. Suckah," Wade chuckled, a sound full of whiplash and broken glass.

"And he probably couldn't have given a shit either, Robson. He was doing what you booked him to do, asswipe. Whoopity fuck. What's the point of pulling one over on the dude anyway? You don't even know him. You trying to jump his 'scorching hot' bones or what, man?"

Wade sighed, long and low. "For the thrill of it, bro. The sheer thrill. But you know what? For-fucking-get it, dickhead. Sports are like, such a fucking waste of time on you, FAT ONE."

Joe laughed again, as good-natured as ever. "Whoa. How hilarious. And original too. Never heard that one before."

"Yeah, yeah. Piss off," Wade snarled.

Justin had stopped just outside the door of their warehouse office, listening but without much interest. Wade was almost never this animated and passionate-sounding about anything, and Justin could hear that strange hum in his tone, although he didn't particularly care what Wade was so hyped and lively about. As long as it didn't concern him, of course. And it occurred to him that this might just be the good mood he needed to catch the guy in when he brought up the sticky subject of him harassing Britney.

When he was tired of pseudo-eavesdropping, he inched his head around the edge of the doorframe and peaked inside to find Wade - his back to the door - sweeping a wide imaginary practice swing of some sort with an invisible object held in his hand from one side of his body to the other. Some kind and protective force field buried deep inside Justin's psyche, which he was completely unaware of at the crucial moment, shielded him from the gesture registering any kind of recognition for him. And then Joe turned and spotted him, saving him from any dangerous overanalyzing he might have normally fallen victim to.

"Hey! Speaking of queer bait! Timbersnoop! Can we help you with something?" Joe bellowed from his slouched position in his chair and laughed hard. "Sneaking up on us or what? Stealing our dirty little secrets? Haha! Come in! Have a seat, buddy boy!"

Wade spun around and ate Justin up with the biggest, boldest, gloat-evil grin in history. His eyes burned with black glee. "Well! Good morning, sunshine! What up?"

Justin stepped inside the room noncommittally and smirked but, as usual, he didn't take a seat. He wouldn't be staying. "Hey, you guys. Nice to see nothing's changed around here. Homophobes-R-Us hard at work."

Wade rolled his eyes but still broadcast his huge smile. "Chill, dude. Everything's cool. Don't, like, go and tell the principal on us or anything."

"Yeah, Jussy-Jussy!" Joe waved him in warmly. "It's all good. Magnificent, in fact. C'mon, c'mon, c'mon in da house! Sporty Spice Robson here was just demonstrating his latest weird-fuck obsession. His piña has found a new colada to stick in. Go on. Tell him, man," he steeled his eyes up and taunted Wade.

"Ah, I'm sure Timberlake knows exactly how to appreciate this little game. Unlike your dead ass, Joseph. I'll bet he knows the 'sheer thrill of it' better than most dudes. Know what I'm saying?" Wade's acidic grin grew up quickly into a chalky, hollow laugh. He seemed to be addressing Joe, but his deliberate glare was aimed directly at Justin.

Justin, however, wasn't about to let anything - especially Wade and the slick/sick ulterior motives lurking around in his head - seep in and taint his top-of-the-world, spectacularly perfect, post-JC state of mind today. He sighed, bored and aloof.

"Okay. Let's hear it. What are you on about, Wade?"

Wade opened his mouth, fully prepared to dash Justin's great vibes - and his ultra-fine day - on the sharp rocks of barely concealed contempt just beneath that dark smile.

The Fates, however, and all of them too, were playing on Justin's team today.

"Justin Timberlake, you're needed in the comp room. Justin, please come to the comp room," Austin-Adair's receptionist interrupted and announced shrilly over the office-wide telephone intercom/paging system.

Relieved, Justin pulled his hands out of the pockets of his trousers and threw them in the air, palms up. He noted the disappointment clouding Wade's face and casually grinned. "Well, guys. This has been loads of fun, but I gotta go. I've been summoned."

"Summoned? You've been rescued, man. From anymore of Robson's hot-boy lust. Or, as he calls it, competitive sports." Joe looked from Wade to Justin and laughed.

Wade scowled predictably over his shoulder. "Shut up, Fatone."

"Hey, Timberlake. You on for Thursday, buddy? Beer? Pizza? Bowl-o-rama?"

Justin looked down and shuffled his feet restlessly. He shivered as that familiar tingly fluttering rippled through his gut. He smiled when he glanced back up, hoping it wasn't too big and telling.

"Yeah, man. I'm down. Why not? Sounds like a good time."

"Awesome! 'Cause, see, Robson's pussying out on us. How's that for some shit, huh?"

Wade scrunched up his face again. "I hate bowling, dude. It's so……….cruddy."

Joe almost choked on the soda he'd just taken a drink of. He snickered. "Cruddy? What the fuck kind of word is that, man? You been hanging around Justin's potato-head secretary too much or what?"

"Go to hell, Fatone."

As he listened to their retorts, Justin almost blurted out, "But you took Britney bowling, you prick. Liar much?" But he held back. He didn't want to get into the Britney/Wade ordeal with Joe (or anyone else) around. He also didn't care to jinx the fantastic luck of Wade not being there Thursday night.

"I, uh, have to run, guys," he said instead, backing away toward the door. "How about we do lunch this week? Tomorrow maybe? The whole crew? I'll ask Lance. Okay?"

"Hump Day. Right on. I'm there." Joe gave him a wink and a thumbs-up.

Wade shook his head and started that nauseating slow-burn grin again. "Can't. Sorry. Got me a lunch-hour lesson squeezed in there," he spat out like a snake hiss. "My new extracurricular activity awaits."

Joe chuckled. "Whatever, Robson. You've still got to give Jussy here the low-down on that. He'll be interested to hear this."

"Later, man. Okay? Fill me in later?" Justin rasped, almost safely out the door now.

Wade's mouth twitched as the smug, sullen smile took it over again. He nodded at Justin, and his voice came out friendly but slicked and slinked with something very untrustworthy.

"Sure, dude. No prob. It'll wait. No hurry. I know you'll find it interesting, like Joe said……….And this is the kind of scoop that just gets better and better with age. Know what I'm saying?"

"I swear to God I don't want to know," Justin muttered to himself, out of their hearing range, as he fled the bullpen and darted down the hallway toward the comp room. "I just seriously don't care. Know what I'm saying?"



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