By Zaen
You’d
already been fumbling with your mass of keys for a while before you realized
that the front door was unlocked. You
sighed and balanced your manpurse, keys, the mail
you’d snatched from the box, and a bunch of sheet music as you entered the
house. You stood in the foyer, whistling
at the two dogs as they trotted by.
“Justin?”
“Back
here, C.” Justin was standing in the
middle of his kitchen sipping a huge bottle of water, his back to you.
“I
got your mail,” you said, not really looking at him as you plopped your armload
onto the counter. “Um, I didn’t know if
you—um, you two—were doing something
tonight or anything, but I thought maybe if you
were free, that you and I could get some take out or—”
“Or not.”
“J.” You gasped when your eyes followed his
outside, through the sliding glass door, onto the patio, to the large gas grill
where a fire was blazing nearly out of control.
You watched, jaw dropped, as a mountain of clothing—some one of a kind,
custom-made designer pieces made specifically for Justin, some prototypes from his
and Trace’s nascent line—went up in flames on the grill. “Justin!
Baby, what happened?”
Justin
made a grunt and shrugged, taking another swig of water. He turned to face you, and you gasped
again. “How’s your day been, baby?” he
asked nonchalantly, one blue eye sparkling, the other swollen shut and quickly
turning black and blue.
“Don’t
move,” you ordered as you rushed to the freezer. He just nodded and went back to watching the
blaze like it was on the TV and not right in his backyard. You placed a bag of frozen peas on his eye,
holding it up for him so he could keep his hand on his bare stomach, which you
finally noticed was a bit red. He hissed
when you pressed the cold mass to his face.
“Easy, C. Hurts.”
“Sorry.” You watched the blaze with him, waiting for
him to explain. When he said nothing,
only sighed like he was bored and not beaten up, you cleared your throat and
asked, “So…she knows now?”
“Mm hm.”
“Guess
she didn’t take it too well.”
“No,
I guess not. She didn’t seem too
surprised, though.” Justin sighed
loudly, took the bag of peas from you and tossed them on the counter. “C’mere.” He grabbed you and held on tightly, rubbing
his nose back and forth on your neck like he was soothing it. Maybe Cameron had hit him there, too.
“I
guess she’s stronger than she looks?” you whispered, and were relieved when
Justin chuckled a little.
“Man,
I wish you were here to protect me. I
was scared for a second. I mean, the butcher
knives are right there.”
“J.” You pulled back so you could see him up
close. “You don’t deserve this,” you
murmured as you gingerly touched his bruised eye and lip.
“Yes,
I do. I lied to her. For years. I deserved it.”
“No.”
“Yes.” Justin smiled as best he could. For a second you were reminded of a photo
shoot he did early into his solo career, all false bravado and bruise makeup
and attitude. His acting was better now,
but you could still see through the façade.
“Don’t
beat yourself up for it, J.”
“Don’t have to; she did a
pretty good job!” Before you could
reply, Justin smiled and pressed his swollen mouth to yours, whispering, “I’m
ok, baby,” into the kiss until you nodded and let him in. He kissed you softly, but his hands on your
ass were more daring. “Didn’t get to
kiss you hello before,” he murmured as he pressed against you. “You know I always have to kiss you hello.”
“Justin,
we have to talk about this—”
“Mm,
you taste good, C.”
“But…how
did she find out? Did you tell her? Mmm…sweetheart…talk to me.”
“Later,
baby. Kiss me.” You wrapped your arms around each other as
you kissed and rocked, the way you two had been doing every time you saw each
other in private, ever since you’d gotten together, for real. And it had been often—no more weeks or months
of missing each other, like you’d done in the past. Since the day you two admitted your feelings,
you hadn’t been apart for more than a few days at a time. You wondered briefly if Cameron had perhaps
found some evidence—a love letter or a picture or your underwear—in Justin’s
house, garage, or car, and then finally figured it out. Or maybe Justin screamed your name instead of
hers while they were making love. Or
perhaps Justin finally had enough of lying and finally told her that you were the love of his life. Even with the sloppy kisses, Justin could
tell your brain was working. “Hey. JC. It’s alright.
I’m ok.”
“You’ll
miss her. Won’t you?” you asked
gingerly, not looking him in the eye. “I
mean, you loved her for…several years.
Do you have any, um, regrets?”
Justin made you look at him and waited a long time before he spoke.
“My
only regret is that I didn’t have the courage to make you mine from the start.”
You
waited, too, before whispering, “Thank you.”
“You’re
welcome.”
You
stopped him before he could claim your lips again with, “Do you think she’ll,
uh, out us?”
“Honestly,
JC,” Justin said as he took your hand, lifted it up over your head and twirled
you around, “I don’t know. And you know
what? I don’t think I care if she
does!” He spun you a few more times, until
you were silly putty in his waiting arms.
You hugged him gratefully. You
were higher than you’d ever been.
“Excellent!”
“Get
upstairs now,” he grunted, leaving a possessive nibble on your neck. “We’ve got a lot of planning to do.” He started to kiss you and push you
backwards, until you stopped him and turned his head toward the blaze outside.
“Shouldn’t
we put that out first?”
“Nah,
let it burn,” he whispered. “It’s just
stuff.”
“But
you loved that stuff,” you explained, eyeing a few of Justin’s favorites on the
pile. Justin sighed, but then smiled as
he rushed outside and put the flames out with a fire extinguisher. He returned, closed the door, and took your
hand.
“There’s
stuff I love more than that.”
“First
thing, I want to take a vacation,” Justin said as he started moving some
women’s clothes from his closet into a large box. “When’s good for you? I wanna go for two weeks this time.”
“Justin,
baby, you don’t have to do that right now,” you yawned as you stretched out on
his bed. Your bed now.
“I
know. I just—”
“I
know you love me. I know it, J. You don’t have to get rid of all her stuff
right away.” You watched Justin toss some
lacy unmentionables from a drawer into another box. “Well, not yet.” When Justin opened yet another drawer of
women’s sexy undergarments, you got off the bed and started to help him. Justin smiled at you and stopped your hands
as they twisted into a negligee.
“Thank
you,” Justin whispered seriously. “Thank
you for giving me the time to end it on my own terms.” He shushed you with his fingers, soft on your
lips. “Thanks for waiting for me.”
“What
choice did I have?” you mumbled against his fingers, smiling to relax him. He smiled back and looked serious at the same
time.
“You
had a choice, C. I would have broken
with her the minute I knew you loved me back, if you’d asked me to. You wouldn’t let me do it over the phone,
because you knew how much that would hurt her.
You made me…you let me wait
until I could do it right. Until I was
ready to face the likelihood that the whole world will find out that I…that I love you more than anything.”
Justin’s
eyes were so big and blue. You thought
you might burst into tears.
“Then,
um, I’m glad I let you wait,” you whispered, and really meant it. The waiting between then and now was worth
the love you saw in Justin’s eyes at that moment. You cleared your throat, so you wouldn’t cry,
and then gratefully sucked Justin’s thumb into your mouth. He gasped at the contact, his eyes turning
dark with desire already. “I’d already
been waiting for you, for years, J. I
was used to waiting.” Justin wrapped his
hands around your waist and nudged you backwards toward the bed.
“So
was I.”
“God.” You gulped
down nearly half a bottle of Gatorade before Justin grabbed it and chugged the
rest for himself. You bit into his
sweat-covered neck as you tried to catch your breath and cool off in front of
the open refrigerator. “Mmm, Jus, I can barely stand up.”
“No…wonder…you’re…ugh…animal,”
Justin groaned, wiping sweat, Mango Intenso, and
other residual liquids from his mouth. “Mmm, need to taste you again.” He pressed you into the open refrigerator and
kissed you deeply. The slippery-squish of
your skin made you giggle. Justin smiled
and pressed a cold jar of pickles to your neck.
You thanked him with a gentle kiss.
“I know we can do this whenever we want now, but I still wanna go away
with you again, C.” You could tell what
he was thinking already.
“Let’s
do it. But this time we’ll pay. I’ll
pay. I don’t want you going near Wilmer Valderrama again.”
Justin smiled wickedly and dug into the refrigerator. Crazy sex always made him hungry. You’d known that for years.
“JC,
where’s the milk? Oh, by the way, about
Wilmer,” he announced from inside the open fridge. He emerged with the milk as you went for the
cupboard. When you came back to him, he
was standing with one hand on his hip, looking just the slightest bit
guilty. “I paid last time. I mean I paid. A lot. A lot.” He handed you
the milk jug and snatched the Cap’n Crunch from you,
digging into the box while you stared at him perplexedly. “I never had sex with Wilmer. I never touched him at all.”
“What? But you said that you and he—”
“I
wanted to make you insanely jealous, so I lied,” he admitted offhandedly. “Dude, Wilmer doesn’t own that place. It’s a
private island, man, and I don’t think Rupert Murdoch is that generous! Wilmer rented
it after some other secretive rich guy, who had it after someone else, and so
on and so on. I think Travolta or Cruise
started it back in the 80s.” You laughed
and rubbed his naked belly thankfully.
“I think Haliburton really owns it!”
“Probably.” You
wrapped your free arm around his neck, gazing a few centimeters up into your
boyfriend’s beautiful eyes. “Good. I was so fucking jealous. I prayed for a week that That 70’s Show would get cancelled.”
“Baby.” Justin kissed
you on the cheek. “
“I’ve
got your big nose right—mmph!” You pulled each other into a kiss so deep and
hard that you both dropped the food in your hands. You were too busy devouring each other to notice
the spilt cereal and the milk gurgling all over the kitchen floor. You were too enthralled with each others’ busy
hands and reawakening erections to take note of the noise coming from the front
of the house. It took Justin’s mother’s surprised
high-pitched gasp to jolt you back to reality.
“Ahh! Shit, Mom, you scared us!” Justin
yelped. You tried to squirm between
Justin and the counter, to shield his mother’s wide eyes from the state you
were in, but Justin held you close, like he wanted her to see. You laughed and buried your red face into his
chest.
“Um…he-hello,
“I,
um, well, um…oh dear,” peeped Justin’s mother.
“I just stopped by to…I…I think I’ll just, uh...Justin, what on earth
are you two doing?”
“What
does it look like, Mommy?” Justin
wrapped his arms tighter around you, making you feel safe even though your
heart was beating a mile a minute.
“We’re…you know.” He kissed your
neck and held you close so you couldn’t fully hide from his mother, though you
could only look at her feet. “Me and JC. We’re…together,
Mom. Have been for a
long time.”
You
waited for
“Bye,
Mom!”
“My own son! Scandalous!” Once you
heard the front door slam shut, you could finally breathe again. You looked into Justin’s eyes, and it was the
island, the mansion, the craziness all over again.
“Justin,
your mom knows about us!”
“Of
course she does,” Justin whispered as he looked at you, then down at
himself. “Hm. I guess
we freaked her a little bit.” He guided
you backwards, over the spilt milk and cereal, down the hallway, into the
bathroom. When you two saw your
reflections in the full length mirror, you finally understood
“No
wonder she freaked; you’re a mess,” you teased as you adjusted Justin’s
package, which was barely covered by a tiny leopard print silk thong. Justin smiled at you and turned you in his
arms, hugging you from behind so you could see yourselves in the mirror again—your
eyes, your bodies, your scars, Cameron’s thong, her stockings, her brand new,
still tagged, unworn bra, and everything else.
You pulled at the elastic tops of the stockings Justin wore, then at the
underwire digging into your ribs. “All this is fun but…we don’t really need all
this, do we?”
“No,
we don’t, sweetie.” Justin gently unhooked
your red bra and tossed it over his head like a triumphant matador throwing a
flower to an adoring woman in the audience.
“We’re about more than just sex, Justin. Vanilla or otherwise.”
“I
know,” he whispered into your hair, “we always were.” Justin squeezed you and stated, “I love you, JC.
Do you love me?”
“Always.”
“Do
you trust me?”
You
duplicated the mischievous smile that crept across Justin’s face. “Unconditionally.”
“We
belong to each other completely now, C.”
He nodded his head, almost like he wasn’t sure if you agreed. You turned around in his arms and kissed him
softly.
“Yes.”
“We’d
do anything for each other.”
“Anything, Justin.”
You pulled him flush against you, just in case he wasn’t sure. “I’ll do anything for you. I love you.
Just ask. Anything.”
Justin
wrapped your leg around his waist, licked his lips, and murmured, “Ok,
then. Let’s do something really depraved. Something we’ve never tried before.”
You
shivered. You two could still make each
other crazy. “Oh, baby, let’s.”
Soon
after, Justin had you where he wanted you, squatting on the kitchen floor.
“I
only let you do this to me because I love you so much,” you grunted.
“I
know,” Justin sighed as he swept spilt Cap’n Crunch
into the dustpan you held to the floor.
“I love you, too, JC Chasez. Now. You ready to start mopping?”
You
rolled your eyes, but then smiled despite yourself. You were ready for anything. You both were.
END
Inspired by the movie and the song
<<<CHAPTER NINE
Copyright 2005-2006 by KTA
Started: Sep-Nov 2002
Written: 2005
Finished (completely): October 2006