Date: Mon, 07 Jul 2003 20:50:06 -0400
From: Writer Boy <writerboy69@hotmail.com>
Subject: rebound - part 50

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

1) If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or
you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You
shouldn't be here.

2) I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no
way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or
anything else.  This is a work of pure fiction.

Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I enjoy
constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy
flames, and will not tolerate them.

That said, we now continue.

***

The two of them were still working when I was hungry, so I fixed myself a
little plate and ate in the kitchen, discovering a small television set in
one of the cabinets I hadn't opened yet. I watched it while I ate, since I
had no one to talk to and had read the books I'd packed by this point. I
figured there had to be books somewhere in the house, since neither of them
were illiterate, and a quick peek into the guestrooms that I hadn't been
inside yet turned up a bookcase in each, easily replenishing my supply of
reading material. Not only were the books neatly shelved, they were also
alphabetized, and I wondered if there was a room in the house that JC
hadn't subtly organized. I knew it wasn't Justin's influence. If I had to
characterize their relationship, based on what I knew about both of them,
I'd have to say that Justin picked things out and JC put them away.

Oh well, I thought, taking three or four books and stacking them in the
bedroom.  Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. Justin was
physically gifted, and extremely creative and talented. That more than
balanced being a little disorganized, and I wouldn't have him any other
way. Nobody was perfect, not even JC, for all his talents as well. If
anything, the two of them had probably balanced each other really well, the
way that Justin and I did. On the other hand, something must have been
missing in their relationship, no matter how well they complemented each
other, or else they'd still be together. They both admitted that the
relationship hadn't been perfect, and the fact that they were broken up
seemed to bear that out.

I wasn't sure why I was thinking about that kind of stuff, anyway. I guess
having the guys over, and Joey's overprotective worrying, had gotten me all
stirred up inside again. I just needed to remember that things were
different. JC wanted Justin to be happy, and Justin wanted to be with me,
so I had nothing to worry about. If I kept letting my doubts pick at us
like that, if I kept letting them undermine my relationship with Justin,
I'd end up like JC had, brokenhearted and alone. There were enough people
arguing against us without me doing it, too. I settled in with my new book
on a couch in the music room, the stereo playing softly, and decided to
just think about the good things that had happened today, and not worry
about the bad ones that could happen somewhere down the road.

As it began to get dark outside I realized that the boys hadn't broken for
dinner yet. If things were going the way they had the other day, they were
probably so deep in their zone that they didn't even realize that they
needed to eat, and I decided to go ahead and fix them each a plate. I
didn't think they should have food in the studio, since crumbs could get in
the machines or something, so I popped their plates in the microwave,
grabbed two bottled waters from the refrigerator, and went down the hall to
bust in on their session. Somebody had to take care of them if they
couldn't take care of each other.  When I opened the door of the studio,
they were both huddled over the keyboard in the back recording part, JC
seated and Justin was leaning over his shoulder, hitting some keys. He was
draped over JC, leaning against his back, and the two of them didn't notice
me until I was right up at the window. JC saw me first, his eyes widening
as he happened to look up, and he tapped Justin on the arm.

"Hey, baby," Justin said, smiling widely as he stood. I realized that the
microphones were on as he boomed from the speakers. I didn't know which
button to answer, so I just waved as JC stood as well.

"What's up?" JC asked. They both had headphones around their necks, I
assumed so that they could hear what they were working on. Justin pulled
the door to the recording booth open.

"I thought you guys might be hungry," I said uncertainly. I'd felt a little
twinge, a tiny spike of jealousy, when I walked in and saw them leaning so
comfortably against each other. Was that what they were doing the whole
time they were in here working?  Rubbing against each other? "I made you
guys plates, in the kitchen."

"Oh my God," Justin exclaimed, looking at his watch. He gave me a quick
kiss on the cheek as he breezed past me. "I didn't even realize how late it
is! I'm starving! Thanks, baby!"

"No problem," I said, starting to follow him down the hall. What had I
walked in on? Had I even walked in on anything, or was I just being stupid?
They were friends, best friends, and they were touchy feely. They both said
they had been, and really, they were working.  I wanted to trust them both,
I really did. I loved Justin, and JC was my friend. I heard him behind me
as I walked down the hall.

"Chris?" he asked, his voice carrying a note of concern.

"Yeah?" I asked, turning around. He had that little furrow between his
eyebrows again.

"Is something wrong?" he asked. "Are you ok?"

I remembered what he said about me not being as good at hiding my emotions
as I thought I was. He somehow managed to catch that I was bothered, even
if Justin had missed it. At least he was enough of my friend to ask me
about it, and I could see from the look in his blue green eyes that he was
being sincere. He really wanted to know if something was bothering me, and
I shrugged, forcing a smile.

"It's nothing," I said, shrugging. "Come on. Your dinner's going to get
cold."

"I'll be right there," he said, heading the other way. "I just have to
visit the facilities for a minute. Thanks for busting us up, Chris."

"No problem," I answered sincerely.

I found Justin in the kitchen, happily plowing through the plate I'd made
like he was starving to death and had finally been given a meal. You'd
never guess that he'd eaten half a steak and a whole chicken breast at
lunch, along with side dishes. I went into the cabinets for a bowl, and by
the time JC came and took his plate out of the microwave I was ready to sit
down with a nice dish of ice cream. No way was I eating a second dinner.  I
had enough body issues as it was hanging around with the two of them, and
wondered what kind of hyper metabolisms they both enjoyed that kept them so
thin and trim.

"So, did you guys get a lot done tonight?" I asked, curious.

"Sort of," Justin answered, frowning. I raised my eyebrows curiously.

"The guys didn't like some of the stuff we've done the past couple of
days," JC sighed.  "Some of it was just little things, but some of it,
well."

"I really don't think what you did with 'Drive Myself Crazy' works at all,
Justin, JC," Justin sneered in a high pitched mimicry. It could only be
Chris he was mocking.

"Justin," JC said, sighing and shaking his head. "Everybody gets an equal
voice, and maybe he was right. Maybe it wouldn't have worked in concert."

"We might not even use that song!" Justin said, stabbing at his food. He
continued crossly, frowning. "I mean, they all say that they trust us to do
it, and that they don't really want to help out because they know we have
it under control, and the minute they hear it, it's just one complaint
after another. Not only do they want us to mix up five more songs, and the
medley, but we have to redo the three that we did already."

"The medley?" I asked, ignoring the more temperamental aspects of Justin's
outburst.

"On one of our early tours we did a medley of Bee Gees songs," JC
explained, also brushing off Justin's ranting. Maybe he just needed to
vent. "We're thinking of doing something similar this tour, something for
the parents that come and as sort of an homage to the older, bigger groups,
with the Temptations and Motown, stuff like that. The guys suggested the
songs, but it still needs to be mixed up, what the transitions'll be, how
we'll do the bridges, stuff like that."

"Sounds time consuming," I said, nodding.

"It is," JC said simply. "But we're not really doing anything else for a
little while, not as a band, anyway, so we'll have time to work on it."

"And then they'll hate that, too," Justin pouted, his plate almost empty.

"Justin," JC sighed again.

"Whatever," Justin said, sulking, as if that was the answer to his
problems.  "I'll meet you back in the studio when you're done. I'm going to
the bathroom."

Justin dropped his plate in the sink and stomped away, leaving JC and I
alone in the kitchen. I sighed.

"Maybe I should go after him," I said, starting to stand.

"He gets this way sometimes," JC said, shrugging. "Sometimes he just
forgets that there are four other guys in the band, but he'll come
around. You don't mind if we keep working?"

"No," I answered, shaking my head. "Maybe he'll get it out of his system."

I dropped my bowl in the sink on top of Justin's dish, knowing that I'd end
up cleaning it later if JC didn't scoop it out and drop it into the
dishwasher, and headed down the hall, looking for Justin. He wasn't in the
guest bathroom, but I found him in the studio, getting more tape out of the
cabinet, slamming things around like that would make him feel better. I
came up behind him, a little afraid of bothering him, and touched his
shoulder gently. He spun around, but when he saw me he smiled, and pulled
me into a hug.

"Don't worry, I'll let you get back to work," I murmured into his neck. "I
just wanted to say I'm sorry you're having a bad night."

"It's ok, baby," he said, his hands running up and down my back. He smelled
good, warm and tasty, and I kissed along the side of his neck, tasting him,
as he sighed happily. "It's just that I finally got to work on this stuff
again, and we've been working so hard, and they don't like it. It just
pisses me off, you know?"

"I know," I said, trying to be understanding. "I'm sorry, baby. I'll let
you get back to work now, ok?"

"OK," he sighed, much calmer as I let him go. "Thanks for dinner, Chris."

"No problem," I said, shrugging, as I headed for the hall. "I'll probably
be upstairs when you guys get done, but I'll try to wait up for you."

"I love you," Justin said, not turning around.

"Love you, too," I answered. JC and I nodded to each other in the hallway,
and then they got back to work.

I was on the verge of falling asleep, my book put away and all the lights
off, when Justin finally came upstairs. I listened to him get ready for
bed, taking care of his business in the bathroom, actually setting his
alarm clock, and then smiled as I felt him slide beneath the sheet. I
turned over, facing him, and he reached out for me, pulling me toward
him. As I slid over, carefully pressing my front to his, I realized he was
completely naked, and my hands started to slide down his torso, over his
smooth pecs and rippled abs, as he began to kiss me softly on the mouth. I
found his cock, half hard, and began to lightly caress it with both hands
as it stiffened, and he let out a high pitched sigh that turned into a
whimper as I began to lightly stroke him.

"Chris," he whispered, pulling me on top of him as his legs came up on
either side of me.  His hands slid down my back, beneath my boxers to cup
my ass, before he started to slide them down. "Chris, please make love to
me. Please."

"Of course I will," I whispered between kisses.

Sometimes Justin like it fast and rough, urging me on with dirty talk,
raking his nails up and down my back or making me turn him over so that I
could slam into him from behind while I watched his tanned back flex and
twist beneath me. Tonight, though, he wanted it slow and tender, which was
a way that I actually preferred. As hot as the other way was, as satisfying
in its own animal kind of way with the quick spontaneity, I felt like this
way was more respectful of him, like it was somehow more like the treatment
he was worthy of. It also gave me time to savor the experience, to listen
to his sighs and whimpers, to watch his muscles flex and his eyes squeeze
closed in pleasure, and I smothered his face with kisses as he arched and
writhed beneath me. When he finally came, pearly arcs shooting across his
stomach, some of them even reaching up to his chest, I let go as well,
wanting to make sure he was taken care of before I finished, and we fell
asleep against each other as he mumbled that he loved me.

In the morning we woke up together at the sound of his alarm, both of us
stumbling crankily out of bed and into the bathroom to shower together. We
washed each other, doing each other's backs, and Justin laughed as I
playfully claimed to be trying to scrub off his tattoos. There was a lot of
kissing and touching, but no sex, and when the shower was over Justin sat
very still on the edge of the tub as I shaved him, clearing out a couple of
days worth of stubble. I'd never really thought of that as an erotic act,
but there was something about the way he closed his eyes, tilting his head
back and trusting me completely that was at once tender and sexual. When he
was done I let him do the same for me, and discovered that it worked both
ways. It was surprising that we even managed to get dressed with the amount
of touching and caressing and kissing that went on in the bedroom.

JC was in the kitchen, apparently having set his alarm clock for the same
time, when we came downstairs. He'd already turned on the coffeemaker for
me, and smiled at both of us as Justin went straight to the cabinets to get
a bowl and his cereal.

"Good morning," I said, pouring out a tall cup. Over the course of the
morning I would end up drinking the whole pot, which couldn't be good for
me, but was too long a habit for me to break now.

"Morning," he smiled, standing over a pan at the stove. "Cheese eggs?"

"Sure," I said. "I assume from the alarms that you two are planning to work
today?"

"Yeah," Justin answered, kissing me on the cheek as he walked by. "Could
you do us both a favor, please?"

"Sure," I answered, waiting.

"Break us at noon for lunch?" Justin asked, pouring the milk onto his
cereal. "We'll just forget to eat otherwise."

"No problem," I said, happy that my interruption would be welcomed.
"Anything special you want?"

"Leftovers will be fine," JC said, sliding a plate of cheese laden
scrambled eggs in front of me. "We still have plenty left from yesterday,
and we should probably eat them before we get tired of them."

When I went down at noon they were in much better spirits than they'd been
in last night, and they were both smiling and relaxed at lunch. Even though
they'd said leftovers were fine, I'd consulted some of the cookbooks I
found in JC's cookbook drawer, and transformed some of what we had into new
meals. They were both pretty appreciative, and when lunch was over JC
pressed a wad of money into my hand.

"You don't have to pay me for lunch," I said, confused, and he and Justin
both laughed.

"It's for dinner," JC said. "Order at 5:30, and come grab us when it gets
here?"

"Sure," I said, smiling. I realized that I was really happy, not only that
we were getting along but also that we'd now coasted through consecutive
days of tranquility. Nobody had cried, argued, or run out of the room, and
I was also happy to see the two of them getting so much accomplished. "Does
it matter where I order from?"

"No preference," Justin answered, and JC shrugged as well. "You know where
the menus are."

I spent the afternoon floating around the pool, reading as I lay on a giant
float with a cup holder. There were even speakers for the sound system out
here, like I'd seen at Johnny's house, and after a little experimentation I
figured out how to operate them as well, once I figured out where they kept
the remote. When it was time to order, I picked out Chinese, knowing that
JC liked it and that Justin would enjoy a change, since we'd been eating so
much American lately what with all the leftovers. By the time the food
arrived, I'd rinsed off the chlorine and set the table, and when I got the
guys from the studio they were both still in the happy mood they'd been in
at lunchtime.

"We got so much done today," Justin said happily. "We finished reworking
'Sailing' the way they said to, and got started on 'I Want You Back' and on
the medley."

"That's great," I said, smiling. "I worked on my tan, and read an entire
book."

"You are looking a lot less white," Justin said, leaning over and kissing
me on the nose.  "I thought redheads didn't tan."

"It's a careful process," I said, half serious. "Almost like a science."

"Like JC's hair," Justin teased, smiling. JC shook his head, rolling his
eyes.

"Please," JC said, smiling widely enough to actually bare his teeth. "You
should have been here during the heydey of the big blond 'fro."

"Hey!" Justin said sharply, obviously not enjoying having the tables turned
on him.

"I've seen pictures," I said, giggling.

"Pictures can't do it justice," JC laughed. "They don't chronicle the
process. Two shampoos, conditioner, blow drying, leave in conditioner, gel,
then spray, and sometimes even mousse. The cornrows and the bandanna were
the best hair choices he ever made before our current shaved head special."

"At least I'm not the one growing in a mullet," Justin said, sulking. I
leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm sure you looked hot either way, baby," I soothed. Justin stuck his
tongue out at JC as JC rolled his eyes again.

They'd put in so much work that after dinner JC called for a bodyguard, and
we decided to all head out for a movie. The theater, unlike any I'd been
to, actually served beer, and we sat in a small balcony on couches. There
was a divider arm down the middle, but once the lights went down Justin and
I put it up, and spent the movie holding hands and resting against each
other. JC and the bodyguard shared the other couch, but I noticed that they
kept the arm in the middle down. I followed Justin's lead, not wanting to
make any moves in public that would make him uncomfortable, but nobody
recognized us, and we were both interested enough in what we were watching
to avoid making out.  That didn't stop us from doing it in the car, though,
and when we got home we had another long, slow night of lovemaking.

When it was over, and Justin and I were spooned together, wrapped in the
sheets as he nuzzled at the back of my neck, he whispered in the darkness.

"Chris, is it ok if we're not home tomorrow?" he asked.

"Me and you?" I asked. It's not like I had any important plans. "Where do
you want to go?"

"No, not me and you," he sighed, his voice a little uncertain. His arms
were wrapped around me, and I squeezed the hand that pressed against my
chest. "Me and JC. We have to work on mixing up the medley, and we need a
better studio for that, because there's so many tracks that we have to
start with. After we get it roughed out we can bring it back here. Johnny
said he can get us some time tomorrow at one of the studios here in town."

"Sure, baby," I answered. I knew his work was important to him.

"You don't mind?" he asked. "I know we haven't done much lately, except for
the movie tonight, but JC and I, we're really in a zone with this, and I
don't want to lose that."

"But you'll risk it if I say so?" I asked.

"Yeah," he answered without hesitating. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I answered. "Go do your stuff, ok?"

"OK," he answered happily. "I'll leave you some money for lunch, if you
want, and then we'll go out to eat for dinner, ok? I'll take you someplace
nice."

"Sure baby," I answered. "Whatever you want."

In the morning I went back to sleep when Justin's alarm clock went off, and
I barely felt his kiss goodbye before he left for the day. When I finally
did come down I saw that they'd brewed me an entire pot of coffee and left
it in a sealed carafe to stay warm, and they'd both written me notes on the
board on the refrigerator.

"Chris, love you! Lunch money is on the counter. Will call you about
dinner.  Studio number is at the bottom of the board in case of emergency,
or call my cell.  Love Justin"

I smiled when I saw that he'd drawn little hearts all the way around his
message. JC, in a similar vein, had surrounded his with little happy faces
and stars that seemed to dance.

"Dear Chris: Thank you so much for letting us work on this. If you feel as
if you need to purchase large expensive gifts in order to make up for
spending another day by yourself, here's Justin's American Express
number. Catalogs are in the music room in the magazine rack. Your friend,
JC."

"PS: Better that you use JC's Platinum Discover card, as it will pay him
cash back with your every purchase. Here's the number. - Justin"

I was laughing out loud by the time that I got to the end of the board, and
saw that they had even included actual credit card numbers. Did they really
expect me to buy something? I thought about it, wondering if I should order
some sex toys on Justin's card and then tip off one of the tabloids, and
then I wondered if I'd been possessed by the spirit of Joey to even think
such a prank would be funny. By the afternoon I was kind of listless and
bored enough to actually look through a few of the catalogs I found in the
music room, but I really didn't want any presents. I wanted to spend some
time with my boyfriend, and when six rolled around and he still hadn't
called I rang the studio. I gave the receptionist the password Justin had
left, so they'd know that I really was authorized to ask about them, and
then asked if she could ring through to them or drop them a message.

"I'm sorry, sir, but Mr. Timberlake and Mr. Chasez left a few hours ago,"
she said.

"Are you sure?" I asked. They should have been home by now.

"Positive," she answered. "Mr. Chasez left in a taxi with their escort, and
then Mr.  Timberlake left in his car."

"Thanks," I said.

I wondered why they had left separately. Had they gotten into a fight? Had
they had a disagreement of some kind, and gone to cool off? Where would
they go if neither of them had come back here? And why hadn't Justin called
me? Were we still going to dinner?  Was he ok? Did he need me? I called his
phone, but got the voicemail.

"Justin, it's Chris. I just wanted to check on you, because I called the
studio to ask about dinner, and they said you left. Please call me and let
me know what's going on."

After a half hour of anxious pacing I called him again, but still just got
the voicemail.

"Justin, please call me. I'm worried about you, baby. I hope you're ok, and
I love you."

After that I decided to eat, but could barely summon up any appetite. After
my half hearted attempt at dinner the house was still empty, and I tried to
figure out where he would be. I didn't have his mother's number, and I
didn't want to call Johnny yet, not knowing what the situation was. I tried
JC's phone, figuring that even if he was mad at Justin, he would still talk
to me, but I only got the voicemail there, too.  I didn't leave a message,
not wanting to without knowing why he'd left or where he'd gone. I called
Joey's phone, wondering if one of them would have gone there, but Joey's
voicemail said he and Kelly had gone out of town with Bri for a while. That
left me with Chris's number, and I wasn't about to call him and tell him
I'd lost my boyfriend. I was stressed out enough already, and didn't need
his shit making it any worse.

When I got tired of pacing the house I wondered if maybe I should look
around to see where Justin kept his appointment book, as that would
probably have phone numbers in it. Then again, he probably had it with him,
and I didn't feel comfortable picking through his stuff. I'd feel even more
uncomfortable if he walked in while I was doing it. On the other hand, I
was getting a little worried. It had been hours since I'd called the
studio, and there was still no sign of Justin. Thoughts of Matt started to
surface in my head, I actually got worried enough to turn on the news,
figuring that if he was in an accident or if something had happened to one
of the others I would be able to catch it on MTV, if nothing else.

I woke up on the couch, the television still on, just after midnight. The
house was completely dark, and I wondered what had woken me before I heard
a door close upstairs. Whichever one of them it was, I needed to find out
what the hell was going on. I was worried, and scared, and now had managed
to get a little angry, too, and I raced up the steps, not even bothering to
be quiet. JC's door was open a little, but his room was dark. Mine and
Justin's door was closed, and light glowed along the bottom edge. I opened
it quietly, but the bedroom was empty. There was a little pile of clothing
on Justin's side of the bed, and as my eyes followed it to the bathroom
door Justin stepped out in his briefs, wiping a little bit of toothpaste
from his lip. His blue eyes caught mine, but his face was carefully,
completely blank, and I stopped at the door.

"Justin?" I asked, even though it was clearly him. I guess I just wanted to
be sure I had his attention. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah," he answered, not moving either.

"Where have you been?" I asked, confused. Why was he being so quiet? What
the hell was going on? "You never called me for dinner! I have been calling
your phone! I was worried about you!"

"I was driving around," he answered, as if this explained anything.

"Justin!" I snapped, getting pissed. "I said I was worried about you! You
didn't come home, you didn't call, and I didn't know how to reach you, or
if something happened, or what."

"Sorry," he said, shrugging. "I was thinking about some stuff."

"And that's it?" I asked, crossing my arms. "That's all you're going to
tell me? I was worried, Justin! I thought something happened to you."

"Look, I said I was sorry," he snapped, frowning, his voice starting to
take on that whining, spoiled tone that scraped right across all my
nerves. What the hell was wrong with him? I'd been scared to death that
something happened to him, and he'd apparently been driving around all
night letting his phone ring.

"Justin, what's wrong?" I asked. Something must be bothering the hell out
of him. I walked around the bed, reaching for him, and skidded to a stop
when he stepped away.  "Justin?"

"I don't want to talk about it," he said, shaking his head. "It's late, and
I'm tired, and I just want to go to sleep, ok?"

"OK, fine," I said, heading for the bathroom.

Apparently we weren't going to talk. Apparently we weren't going to discuss
whatever was bothering him, or the way he'd just pulled away from me. Had I
done something wrong? Was I not supposed to worry about him? Was something
else going on?  And why was the best excuse he could offer, "I'm sorry"? He
didn't even sound sincere. He was always sorry when he did something stupid
and self centered and jerky, and apparently I was just supposed to take it
again. Whatever was bothering him was a lot more important than me sitting
around the house for hours, unable to go anywhere since I didn't have a
car, not even knowing where to go anyway, and not really having any numbers
to reach him. What if he hadn't come back ever again?

What if I told him goodbye, and he was just gone? Taken away from me? Left
me behind?

I'd forced myself not to consider it while he was still missing, but now
that he was back it was all crashing down on me. Walking back into the
darkened bedroom after I switched off the bathroom light, I tried to
rationalize it, but my hands were shaking. After all, he must be really
upset to have been gone this long. Something must have him really hurt or
scared for him to be unable to talk about it, and now that I thought about
it, he did look tired, like he'd really been struggling with something.
He'd come back exhausted, upset, and all I'd done was bark at him and
demand to know where he was. Half of me thought I was entitled to it, but
the other half argued that I was being pushy and overbearing, and I
wondered if I should apologize right before another voice argued that I was
completely justified and being upset and had nothing to apologize for. I
slid into my side of the bed and reached across, meaning to comfort him, to
hold him and tell him everything would be ok, and just to tell him how
happy and how relieved I was just to have him here with me again, safe.

When my fingers brushed his shoulder, he jerked away.

"Not tonight, Chris, ok?" he snapped. "I'm tired. I just want to go to
sleep."

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I'd just wanted to help, but the
nasty tone he'd just used, the sneering pissed off voice, froze the words
in my throat. I rolled over and went to sleep, curling up on myself, never
realizing before just how big that bed actually was.

***

To be continued.