Well Done, Daddy

By Zaen

           

            JC takes a deep breath and carries a bottle of wine into the bedroom.  He pauses at the sight of Britney and Justin sitting on the bed.  This is not exactly how he’d planned to spend the evening after his 37th birthday.

            “Shoot, I only brought two glasses,” JC mumbles nervously.  Before he can shrink back downstairs Justin leaps off the bed and stops him.

            “It’s all right,” Justin says as he pours a glass for Britney.  She takes it and re-crosses her legs nervously.  Justin pours another glass, takes a sip, and hands it to JC.  “We’ll share…like we usually do.”  JC tries to smile.  He and Justin have been sharing glasses, cooties, and a house for almost 10 years now.  The tabloids are this close to finding them out.  Justin stopped caring last year, when this whole thing started.

<<<<<>>>>> 

            Some of their friends were shocked, but Justin’s mom said it was inevitable.  After all, she deserved grandchildren, and the fact that her only son was secretly married to another man made no difference.  So when Justin casually mentioned to his mother that he and JC were kindasortamaybeperhaps thinking about having kids, Lynn was the first one looking up egg donors and surrogates online.  Justin pretty much forgot about the conversation until he read an interview in Cosmopolitan with Britney.

 

            Though their breakup in 2002 had been nasty, Justin and Britney rebuilt their friendship over the years.  JC always encouraged it, always pretended it didn’t bother him, but Justin teased him reassuringly anyway.  He especially liked to tease that he and Britney would make great looking kids, like they’d planned in their late teens when they were still dating…when he was still straight.  It was a running joke, until Britney turned 28 and decided to have some eggs frozen.  When she turned 30 she spent hours crying to Justin on the phone about how hard it was for a powerful, successful, rich, famous female superstar to find a man.  A year later she told Cosmo that she didn’t care anymore that she didn’t have a husband; she just wanted to have happy, healthy children, preferably with “a guy with good genes.”  Justin had a nice laugh, took a long, therapeutic swim, and then called JC at the studio.

            JC listened without comment.  Then he said yes, go ahead, call her, Justin.  Then he hanged up the phone, had three cups of coffee, and recorded 5 songs in 8 hours.  If he’d still been with Jive, he’d have been rewarded for turning in an album early.  Now, long after Nsync ended amicably, JC recorded for his own label, NotChavez, and he was planning on taking a full year to finish his sixth solo record.  When Britney called him at the studio the next day to say that she’d talked to Justin and was thrilled, JC gritted his teeth, had a Jolt, and wrote 2 songs on the spot.  Two days later, Britney had an appointment with her gynecologist.  JC finished recording, producing, and mixing a double album in just under 6 weeks.

<<<<<>>>>> 

            They guzzle their glasses before saying a word.  JC thinks briefly of suggesting that alcohol might impair Justin’s performance, but he keeps that to himself and pours another glass.  It’s awkward, the most awkward it’s ever been between the 3 of them, and that’s counting the day Justin told Britney about him and JC eight years ago.  Britney clears her throat and idly plays with a button on her blouse.

            “You ok?” Justin asks, his eyes moving between both of them.

            “Yeah,” Britney sighs, “just, um, warm.”  She arches her back, and JC finishes his second glass of wine.

            “I’ll put on some music,” JC grunts as he stumbles across the room to the stereo.  When he turns around, Justin is rubbing Britney’s back.  JC swallows his pride, and thinks about the room that he and Justin painted—blue with pink flowers—last week.  “Is there…I mean…is there anything I can do…Britney?”

            “Yes.  You can get me some big fluffy pillows.”  She smiles politely.  “Thank you, JC.”

            JC welcomes the reprieve from the tension as he searches the upstairs bedrooms for the fullest, fluffiest pillows.  Then he realizes the best pillows are in the bedroom he just left.  He goes back to find Justin and Britney whispering quietly.

            “Um…I think we—I mean, you, I mean…um, these.”  JC points to the pillows at the head of the bed.  Justin smiles shyly and lays two pillows down next to Britney.  She takes a deep breath and slides one under her, propping her hips up off the bed.  JC hums loudly in time to the music, even though he doesn’t know the song.

            “Ok,” Britney whispers.  She looks up at Justin with long, fluttering eyelashes.  Justin stares at her for a long moment like he’s searching for something in her eyes that he once knew long ago.  When he finds it, he leans down and kisses her chastely.

            “Oh.  Um.”  JC knew this was coming, but it doesn’t make watching it any easier.  “Ok.  I think I’ll just, um, you know—”

            C’mere, baby,” Justin commands with an outreached hand.  JC obeys, though hesitantly, and sits on the bed at Justin’s feet.  Justin points to Britney’s other side, kissing her cheeks and nose while he waits for JC to move there.  “Are we…are we all sure about this?  There’s no going back.”

            “Yeah,” Britney sighs.

            “Yeah.”  Justin touches JC’s hand, and JC smiles through clenched teeth.  Justin leans over Britney and kisses his lover’s mouth gently.  “I love you, JC.”

            “I love you, too.”  JC sighs and watches the love of his life make out with his childhood sweetheart.

<<<<<>>>>> 

            Artificial insemination.  Justin looked it up on the Internet.  It would be fine, he convinced JC.  Publicly Justin and Britney were single but friendly.  Whenever Britney dated and dumped a new guy or Justin showed up on a red carpet with JC and 2 beards, the tabloids made bets about how long Justin and Britney would take to finally get back together.  So no one would question their decision to co-parent.  Not that they were planning on announcing it to the public, but they knew that truths—most truths—have a way of getting out.  And there were benefits of Britney being the mother, Justin insisted.  With her busy schedule, they’d have plenty of time alone with the baby.  Plus, she lived around the corner from the house JC still kept, though he and Justin lived together across town.  Plus, the kid would have three doting parents instead of two.  And more than six grandparents.  And it would be gorgeous, a great dancer, and have a 50 % chance of being a great singer.

            They talked about it for hours…and days.  JC was hesitantly optimistic from the beginning, but he never said no.  Justin asked him at least a hundred times if he was absolutely positively sure that he’d be ok with it.  JC nodded his head and finally screamed, “Yes!  Yes!  Now call Britney before you drive me crazy!”  JC’s enthusiasm only waned when he was shut out of a meeting with Justin’s lawyer, Britney’s lawyer, the obstetrician, and all 3 of their publicists.  As a non-biological parent, it would be something he’d have to get used to.  Justin reassured everyone that JC would be just as much a parent to this child as himself or Britney.  JC nodded and watched the soon to be parents drive away to draw up papers.

<<<<<>>>>> 

            It takes a while and the rest of the wine, but eventually Justin and Britney are kissing with ease.  JC giggles at first, watching his lover kiss a woman whom he hasn’t kissed in over 11 years.  Britney frowns when JC can’t stop laughing, but Justin smiles.

            “C’mon, dude!”

            “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” JC whines as he catches his breath.

            “This is serious, man,” Justin says calmly.  JC’s laughter stops immediately.

            “I’m sorry, guys.  Maybe I shouldn’t—”

            “Stay with me, C.”  Justin grabs JC’s hand desperately.  “Please.”  JC nods and their clutched hands fall…on Britney’s hip.  Britney clears her throat.  “OK.”  The kissing resumes, but this time it’s Britney who starts giggling.  “Britney!” Justin laughs.

            “Oh, c’mon.  It’s funny.  Who’d have thought that…you know.  Britney blushes and then quickly checks her watch.  “Um, we better get to it, Justin.  It’s already been 2 hours.”

            “Yeah.”  JC wonders if Justin has to force himself to get Britney out of her clothes, or if it’s like riding a bike.  The wine finally starts to work its magic, and JC finally feels relaxed enough to move.  He figures he can at least make himself useful by getting Justin undressed.

<<<<<>>>>> 

            Britney cleared her schedule for a year, had one bedroom painted blue and another pink, and showed up unannounced one day with a freezable container, a Playgirl, and a turkey baster.  She waited out by the pool while Justin called JC, who was in London producing 2 different albums.  Twenty minutes later Justin sent Britney home with a half full container and her precious stainless steel turkey baster.  The Playgirl he kept.

            The next month Justin sent another sample by personal courier—Lance—who looked green when he handed over the padded envelope, but discussed baby names with Britney for two hours anyway.  Lance’s suggestion: James for a boy, Jamie for a girl.  When Britney showed him the turkey baster, Lance flew out the door.

            After three months with no results, Britney went on fertility drugs.

<<<<<>>>>> 

            Justin smiles as he unclasps Britney’s bra.  “Haven’t seen the girls in a looooong time.”

            “Oh.  Um.”  Britney seems suddenly very shy, and JC again feels like the most tertiary of third wheels.  His impulse is to leave, but his jealousy gets the better of him when Justin laughingly shoves his head into her cleavage.  “Tickles, Justin!”

            “I know it.”  Justin looks over his shoulder and frowns at his boyfriend’s worried face.  Jace—”

            “No, go on, Justin.  We should—you should get it on—I mean!  Um.  Get to it.”

            “Don’t you go anywhere,” Justin whispers before descending on Britney’s trembling lips.  JC isn’t sure whom the comment was directed at, but he promises himself to stay, no matter how hard it may be to watch.  With the wine it’s not so bad, almost like it was back at the turn of the century, when he often watched Justin and Britney holding hands or smooching.  Luckily Justin always was squeamish about PDAs, so JC never had to see too much deep tongue kissing—like now—or worse.  Sometimes imagining what Justin did to her was worse, though.

            Mmm.”  It’s not Justin’s usual happy moan, more like his drunkhappyfullbelly sigh.  Still, JC has to close his eyes and sit a little away.  He nearly clamps his hands over his ears when he hears the smack of their wet lips.

            “Oh.  Can you—”

            “Wait, Brit, I can’t reach…um.  C?”  JC counts to three and opens his eyes.  “Can you, um, get the zipper on, um, her pants, man?” Justin asks sheepishly.

            “Sure.”  JC slides down the bed, under the covers, with them.  He can see it from his vantage point behind her, but it still takes him a while to get it down, what with the staring at his lover over the mound of Britney’s blonde hair.  JC sighs and gets her unzipped.  He waits a bit, but Justin seems to be too busy getting her blouse off to worry about the bottoms.  So JC takes another deep breath and gently pushes down Britney’s pants.

            “Thanks, baby.”  Justin smiles at JC as he kisses Britney’s shoulder.  A large hand slides over her bare hip and lands on JC’s lower back, pulling him closer, forcing JC to spoon Britney.

            “Justin, wait—”

            Jace, I want you here.  We want you here.  Right?”

            “Um.”  Britney pulls away from Justin’s neck and looks over her shoulder.  “He—you, uh, should make yourself more comfortable.”  She smiles shyly at JC and rubs her backside against JC’s front.

            “Oh.”  JC suddenly feels overdressed.  “Ok.”  He looks at Justin’s hand on his leg as he slowly pulls off his shirt.  He’s nervous and embarrassed and strangely somewhat turned on, too.  He has to turn away a little to get his pants off, then he pauses to consider the rest.  Yesnomaybewhywhynot, and then the briefs are gone.  When JC turns back, his bedmates are naked, blushing, and touching.  JC gasps before he can stop himself.

            “JC.”  Justin’s eyes are wide and blue and unsure, making him look much younger than his 32 years.  “C, we can stop now if you want.”

            “But—I mean, yeah,” Britney sighs.  She glances at JC briefly.  “There’s always next year.”

            “No.  Go on.”  JC moves to Justin’s side and starts kissing the back of his lover’s neck.  “Go on,” he whispers.  “You’re gonna make a baby,” JC says strongly, determined to convince them as well as himself.  “Make us a baby, Justin.”

            “All right,” Justin whispers.

<<<<<>>>>> 

            It had been nearly 6 months and Britney started to get restless.  Her career was not going to wait any longer.  She had one last appointment with the fertility specialist before she had to leave town to work on her next movie—for 4 months.  As it would be her last chance to get pregnant that year, Britney was overly anxious.  She showed up at Justin and JC’s the Friday evening before her Monday morning appointment carrying a thick book titled Assisted Reproductive Technologies and the Single, Successful Woman.  JC and Justin sat on the couch and watched her pace back and forth.  They let her talk.  They let her babble.  They let her wear a groove in their carpet.  Then, just to illustrate yet again, Britney took her temperature.

            “Oh, shit.”

            “What?” JC and Justin gasped in unison.

            “I think I’m ovulating.  Right now.”

            She’d been timing everything perfectly for weeks.  This was supposed to happen in two days, not now, she explained as she tore through her bag for the ovulation detection kit.  Ten minutes later it was confirmed, and all 3 sat in confused silence.  As she’d only be fertile for the next 48 hours, her chances of conceiving Monday would be greatly reduced.  JC tried to console her, tell her that there was still a chance, but Britney was already resigned to disappointment.  Justin suggested an emergency visit to the clinic, but Britney reminded him that they were closed for the weekend, and her doctor was out of town skiing with her girlfriend—Britney knew because she’d already left several messages.

            “Maybe we could use a different doctor,” JC offered.

            “All the paperwork is at the clinic.  Using anyone else would be too great a security risk.  And I’m leaving Monday night.”  Britney laid her hands on her exposed, rippled abdomen.  “I guess this wasn’t going to happen.  Not this year anyway.”  She looked up at Justin and shrugged miserably.  “I’m sorry.”

            “It’s not your fault, Brit,” Justin sighed.  He looked at JC.  “You Ok, C?”

            “Maybe you could—”

            “No, it’s too late—”

            “Maybe you could just get her pregnant the old fashioned way,” JC said like he was thinking it and didn’t mean to say it out loud.  Britney coughed.  Justin did a double take.  JC opened his mouth to retract it, but somehow it came out as, “It’s not like you’ve never done it before.”  JC’s eyes widened, but he couldn’t stop himself.  “I mean, you know, like, since you’re here and already ovulating and um, you know…um.  Yes.”

            “Did he…I mean…do you know what you’re suggesting?” Britney asked.

            “I think so.”

            “Are you high?” Justin whispered, loudly.

            “No.  Um.”  JC looked at Justin and then at Britney, and then at her flat stomach.  He swallowed his reservations and remembered the baby booties he’d been secretly knitting.  “You know what, I’m going to open a bottle of wine, and then we’ll talk about this.”

            “But, baby—”

            “Just…I’ll be right back.”

 

            Half an hour, several glasses of wine, and a lot of nervous arguing later, Britney seemed convinced, JC was optimistic, and Justin was still shaking his head no.

            “JC, you do know that you’re suggesting that I…uh…have sex with another person.”

            “Yes,” JC sighed, for the fifty-seventh time.

            “Like, sex, baby.  With my…in her—”

            “Oh my god, don’t even say it,” Britney groaned, and gulped the rest of her glass.

            “I get that, yes.”  JC looked out the window at his and Justin’s pool.  It’d look really nice with some inflatable toys in it.  “It’s not cheating if I give you permission.”

            “Wait a minute.”  Justin pulled JC into the kitchen for privacy.  He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed noisily.  Jace, look at me.”  He took his lovers face in his hands.  “Honey, I’ve never cheated on you, and you know I never will.”

            “I know, baby.”

            “I don’t want to cheat on you.”

            “It’s not—I’m giving you permission.  Besides, it’s not like—I mean—it’s for a reason, you know?  It’s for our baby, Justin.”  Justin’s concerned grimace fell a little.  “I know you…love me.”

            “I love you more than anything, JC,” Justin said loud enough for anyone in the house to hear.  JC smiled proudly.

            “Thanks.”  They embraced.  “I love you, sweetheart.  That’s why I’m…doing this.”

            “JC, we could always wait until Britney comes back to town.”

            “You want to wait another year?”

            “It’s only 4 months.  Five tops.”

            “No, J.  You’ve waited so long, and I know how much you want a baby of your own.”

            “I thought we both—”

            “I want this, too, Justin.”  JC smiled as he let the certainty set in.  “I really want this.”  JC smiled bashfully.  “Plus, we’d better have this kid now, or else I’ll be too old to pick it up in a few years.”

            “Shut up.”  Justin kissed his husband on the cheek.  Then he took a step back, cocked his head and searched his lover’s eyes.  Finally he nodded.  “Ok, JC.  I’ll have…sex,” Justin grunted with a squinched up nose, “with Britney.”

            JC’s stomach flipped, but he smiled and muttered a soft, “Ok.”

            “Let’s go, then,” Justin snapped, grabbing JC’s hand.  “You’re going to watch!”

            “Ok—what??”

 

            JC expected Britney to bolt once Justin announced, “We only do this if JC is there, in the room with me, with us, to watch.  And supervise.  I mean it, Brit.  It’s not negotiable.  JC is going to be a parent to this child, and I want him there, or else I won’t—Brit?  Where are you—oh.  Yeah, uh, that’s right, our bedroom is upstairs, fourth door on the left.”  Justin looked at a very surprised JC.  “She took that well!”

            “Uh-huh.”

            “Well, I guess this is it.”  Justin looked down at his crotch almost apologetically.

            “Man,” JC sighed proudly, “you’re gonna be a great father.”

            Justin smiled and reached out for his lover’s hand.  “So will you, JC.”

<<<<<>>>>> 

            JC doesn’t know what to do, where to lie, where to put his hands.  It’s been so long since he’s been naked and in bed with anyone other than Justin, he feels insecure—for many reasons.  He’s at once a voyeur and a participant, wiping Britney’s long hair out of her face when she sighs, or stroking Justin’s cock with a firm hand when Justin asks for it.  Watching Justin and Britney kiss is the hardest thing, like it was around 1999, when Justin and Britney first started dating and JC realized that he hated her for it.

 

            When Justin asks Britney if “you want me to…you know…before we…” JC wonders suddenly if Justin’s missed this—women—all these years.  Britney smiles and pushes Justin’s head down her stomach.  Then she looks over at JC and turns blood red.

            “Oh!  You don’t mind, do you, JC?” Britney squeaks, hips undulating.

            “Um.”  JC can’t tear his eyes away from Justin’s closely shorn head between Britney’s legs.  “Not at all.”

 

            JC tries to imagine that they’re two porn actors on his TV screen, and hey, isn’t that guy hot, and doesn’t he have a great smile, and her body’s as hard as a 19 year old pop princess, and look at her lips on his—dammit!  Justin lets her blow him, just for a few seconds, and then he stops her and pushes her on her back.

            “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” Justin asks coyly.  Britney wipes her mouth sheepishly.  Jace…honey?” 

            JC doesn’t need to be asked twice.  He gladly slides down the bed to take Justin’s penis into his mouth.  The hiss and arched back make him smile proudly.  He shows off a little, lets Britney watch him excel the way she never could, because it takes having one to know one.  Britney lays her head on Justin’s chest and gently scratches her long nails through JC’s scalp as she watches.  It feels oddly calming.  JC sees her big eyes and suddenly feels guilty for showboating.  He kisses Justin’s swollen cock, then both testicles, says a little prayer for the best swimmer in bunch, and moves away to give Justin room to slide between Britney’s legs.

 

 

            “Ok?” Justin whispers down at Britney’s anxious face.

            “Yes,” she answers, and Justin looks at JC next to him.

            “Ok, baby?”  JC can’t speak, so he nods quickly.  He wasn’t expecting the swell in his chest when Justin slides easily inside her.  Nor was he expecting the long, restless groan coming from both of them.  Britney hisses when Justin fills her completely.  Justin strokes her cheek before kissing her discomfort away.  It’s hard for JC to watch, but he can’t leave now.  Not when he might have Justin’s daughter or son in his arms this time next year.

            “Oh!  Oh…Just…God,” Britney sighs, squirming and graceless underneath Justin, like she’s forgotten how to latch on to him after so many years.  Embarrassment shows on her face—she looks almost like she might cry.  JC hesitates, then moves next to her.

            “It’s ok, Brit,” JC whispers into her hair.  “Relax, hon.  Britney gives JC a withering look, but it goes away quickly when he links his fingers through hers as they slide over Justin’s back.

 

            Justin goes slowly at first.  It’s awkward for all of them, but pleasantly nostalgic.  Justin and Britney share a sweet smile between gentle kisses.  JC looks away, but continues stroking Britney’s hair.

            “Hi, there,” JC hears Justin whisper to Britney.  She doesn’t answer.  JC can hear the smack of their lips.  “You ok?”  She squeaks and arches her back.  JC strokes her arm soothingly, anxious for something to do, but he still won’t avert his eyes from her mass of hair.  “Like old times, huh?”

            “Yeah.”  Britney’s arm moves away from JC’s side, up to clutch Justin’s neck.

            “We’re gonna make a baby tonight, Britney.”  Justin sounds so sincere, so happy, that JC can’t hate him, won’t let his jealousy take over.  He swallows his insecurities and sniffs against Britney’s trembling shoulder.  He smiles bashfully and thinks, Yeah, Justin inside me makes me tremble, too.

 

            Mmm.  You like that?”

            “Yeah,” Justin answers, his eyes closed in concentration.  When he looks down at Britney he almost laughs.  “Do you like it?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Do you like it?”

            “What?”  JC snaps out of his haze to catch Justin leaning toward him.  Justin catches his lips in a tender kiss without missing a stroke.

            “JC…baby.”  Justin smiles bashfully.  “How am I doin’, man?”

            “You’re doin’ real good,” JC whispers, then he looks down at Britney.  “Right?”

            Riiiigh…oh.  Oh.”  Britney looks a little lost.  Her hands stop on Justin’s shoulders like they’re unsure where to go.  “I’m sorry you have to…I mean…oh…I hope this works.  For us.  All three of us.”

            “Brit.”  JC’s third wheel suddenly doesn’t seem so out of place.  He stretches out next to Britney and kisses her cheek, then whispers, “Thank you, hon.”

 

            Eventually the awkwardness and the giggles pass, and for a moment it’s just pure out-and-out fucking.  JC tries to give Justin room to maneuver, but Justin calls his boyfriend back to his side with pleading eyes and grunts of, “Kiss me, sweetness.”  JC does, then moves over to kiss Justin’s tired lower back.  He leaves a few kisses on Britney’s tattooed ankle, too.

            “Oh…are you close, Brit?”

            “No, but I guess—”

            “No, I’ll wait for you.  It’s only fair,” Justin says with a charming grin.  He leans down to kiss her breasts and to get deeper inside her.  JC is so proud.

            When Justin finally comes, JC is so full of emotion that he thinks he might cry.  He can’t deny that it’s beautiful to watch his lover shiver and groan as he plants his seed.  He’d cheered them on near the end—now he feels like applauding at how gracefully their bodies come to rest and then separate.  Justin is still breathing hard when he and JC prop Britney’s legs up so she can hold them to her chest.  Then Justin collapses on the other side of the bed.  Britney hugs her legs as she nibbles her bottom lip.

            “Are you…ok?”

            “Yeah.”  Britney catches her breath and finally looks JC in the eye.  “Yes.  I’m ok.  Thanks, JC.”  She wriggles around, looking slightly unbalanced, so JC stretches out next to her and lays a strong arm under her knees.  She smiles at him thankfully and rests her arms on her chest.  “Thanks.”

            “How long do you have to stay, um, in this position?” JC asks softly.

            “I think maybe 20 minutes,” Britney whispers, then tries to blow the hair out of her eyes.  JC curls around her and uses his free hand to wipe the loose strands from her sweat-damp forehead.  “Thank you, JC.  You’re being really sweet.”

            “I’m a sweet guy,” JC jokes, but it warms his heart to hear it nonetheless.  Britney smiles at him shyly.

            “You really are.”

 

            Justin is snoring a little, a sure sign that he’s only temporarily exhausted, and will probably be ready for another session in about half an hour, JC tells Britney.

            “Yeah, I remember,” Britney whispers as she stretches her neck.  JC adjusts the pillow for her, and Britney thanks him with a sweet smile.  “When you guys were touring, he’d be so tired that sometimes he’d fall asleep before I even, um, finished.”

            “I know, he told me,” JC giggles.  Britney flushes briefly, but then she giggles, too.  She scoots closer to JC.

            “I guess he never does that with you, huh?”

            “Um, no.”  JC supports Britney’s thighs as she stretches out her legs over her body.  Then he sits in front of her to let her rest the backs of her legs against his chest.  That’s when JC remembers that he’s naked, too.

            “JC.”  Britney cocks her head and looks at JC from a different angle.  He blushes, a little unnerved, a little intrigued.  “JC.  Did Justin tell you everything that went on between us?”

            “Uh, I don’t know.”  Yes, he thinks, but decides to keep that to himself.

            “Did he tell you that…um.  Britney nibbles her lips, and covers her breasts demurely like she’s just now remembering that JC is seeing her naked for the first time.  “Did Justin tell you that I…that I was jealous of you?”

            “You were?”

            “Yeah.  I guess I resented all of you a little bit.  But you especially.”

            “Oh.”  JC smiles, but not to gloat.  He knows how she feels.  “Are you comfortable?  Do you need another pillow?”

            “JC…I just…I’m sorry if I was ever, um, mean.  About anything.  To you.”  Britney shrugs and lets her hands fall down to her sides.  She shakes her boobs a little, eliciting a giggle and a raised eyebrow from JC.  “I always envied how close you two were.  I wanted Justin all to myself back then.  Know what I mean?”

            “I think I do.”

            “Really?” Britney squeaks, sounding almost 19 again.

            “Yeah.  And you weren’t mean or anything…to me.  You were always very friendly to me, Britney.

            “So were you.”  Justin snorts and rolls on his stomach.  His current and former lovers snicker and snuggle together under the sheets.  “God.  He’s always the first person to complain about someone else’s snoring—”

            “And he refuses to admit that he does it, too!”

            “Yeah!” Britney laughs heartily.  It makes JC smile at her.  “What?”

            “It’s just…we haven’t heard you laugh, like that, in a long time.”  Britney nods and lays her head on JC’s chest.  “You’ve been stressed.”

            “We all have.”  It’s quiet for a few seconds save the intermittent buzzing from the other side of the bed.  “JC?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Are we doing the right thing?”  She looks up at JC with suddenly worried eyes.  “I mean…what if I screw it up?  What if I suck as a mom?  I’ve already been married 3 times, and I’m only 31 years old!”

            Sh, Brit.  C’mon.  It’s gonna be great.  You and Justin—you’re gonna be great parents.”

            “Yeah.”  Britney smiles.  Her fingertips make circles on JC’s chest.  “What about you?  Did you ever want to have a kid?  I mean, you know, of your own, like, biolloogically?”  They both giggle, still a bit drunk.

            “I dunno.”  JC shrugs.

            “This will be your child, too.”

            “I know.”

            “Really, JC.”  Britney pulls JC forward, so they’re eye to eye.  “I mean it.  I couldn’t ask for a better co-parent than you.”  JC gasps; it’s the nicest thing she’s ever said to him.

            “Yeah?”

            “Yeah.”  They share a smile.  And then an embrace.  And then a short kiss on the cheek.  “I know we haven’t always been, um, close.  Not like me and Justin, anyway.”  JC nods his head as he plays with Britney’s hair.  “But if this works…I mean.  I hope we—you and me—can.  Um.  Get along.  I mean, more than get—you know what I mean?” Britney asks.

            “I know what you mean.”  JC smoothes Britney’s hair down to her neck.  His fingers follow the curve up to her face, where they trace her curled lips.  “I’d like that, Brit.”

            “So would I.”  It’s a minute before JC realizes that they’re staring at each other.  Britney ends it with a cleared throat.  “So, do you want a boy or a girl?”

            “I want a healthy baby,” JC says emphatically.  “But if it’s a girl, I hope she looks just like you.”

            “Aw.”  Britney tilts her head just enough to give JC a quick smack on the lips.  “You always know how to cheer me up.”  JC ducks his head.  “You’re a great guy.”  She looks down at her long nails scratching designs on JC’s stomach.  “I feel bad for…when I was younger…wishing that you weren’t…I mean…resenting your relationship with Justin.”

            “Brit, you don’t have to say—”

            “I just want to clear the air, you know?

            “Oh.”

            “I used to be so jealous.  I wanted Justin to love me…the way he always loved you.  It took me a while, but I know that you two were meant for each other.”  JC knows how hard an admission this is for her.  So he tries it out himself.

            “I, uh, I know what you, uh.  I’ve been there, Brit.”  Her hand stops moving on his stomach, but he can still feel her breath on his chest.  “I used to be jealous of you.”  JC sighs and whispers into her hair, “Maybe sometimes I still am.”  Britney sits up and looks pointedly at JC, like she’s going to protest.  Then she cocks her head and seems to really think about what JC just said.  She looks down at herself, her life-giving breasts, and the flat plane of her stomach that she hopes will be swollen very soon.  Then she nods with realization.

            “I understand, JC.”  She touches his face to make him look her in the eye.  “I’ve never considered how hard this will be for you, not being bound to this child by blood.  But JC, Justin is bound to you.  No matter what.  That will never change.”  She smiles, and for a second she reminds JC of the 11 year old girl he met for the first time on a soundstage.  “He loves you so much.  I would never try to come between that.  Never.”

            “Thank you,” JC grunts around the lump in his throat, and then he pulls Britney down into a tight, long-overdue hug.  They giggle a little at the silliness of their timing—they should have had this talk years ago.

            “Are we ok now?” Britney asks cautiously.

            JC musters his nerve and looks her in the eye.  “Do you still love Justin?”

            “Oh, JC.”  She gives him a look that clearly says silly boy.  “I love him.  I love him like this.”  Britney kisses JC quick on the mouth, the way she always kisses Justin hello/goodbye.  The way JC always hated that she thought she had the right to kiss him.  “I don’t love love him.  Not anymore.  Not for years.”  She touches his nose affectionately.  “Ok?”  When JC nods appreciatively, she snickers, “Were you worried?”

            “No!  Well, I don’t know.  Not worried really.  Just…insecure sometimes.”

            “Don’t be, JC.  You’re wonderful.”  JC rolls his eyes.  Then he looks at her and sees authenticity.  It looks good on her.

            “You don’t have to say that,” JC whispers as heat creeps up his face.

            “It’s true, JC.  You’re a great person.  It’s like, no wonder Justin loves you so much, you know?”  JC kisses the corner of her mouth in gratitude.

            “Thanks for saying that, baby.”

            “I have a confession,” Britney whispers sneakily.  “Justin’s not the only one who had a little crush on you back in the day.”

            “Oh yeah?”  JC is starting to like the validation.

            “Yeah,” Britney squeaks as she pulls on one of JC’s curls.  “My first week on MMC, I totally thought you were hot!”

            “Oh my God!” JC giggles through a pretty blush.  “I don’t know what to say!”

            Britney watches JC with a smile on her face.  When he calms down, she touches his cheek and states, “Your eyes disappear when you smile.”

            “Yeah, when I’m really happy.”

            “You’re happy now?” she whispers.

            Mmm hmm.”

            “I’m glad, JC.”  She kisses him softly.  “I want you to be happy, too.”  JC, comfortable and completely secure with Britney for the first time in years, sighs happily and gathers her in his arms.

            “You deserve to be happy, baby.  One day you’ll meet the man of your dreams.”

            “I doubt it.”  Britney sighs and rubs her nose against JC’s.  He sighs back and kisses her cheek.  “I’ve about given up on men.  You and Justin got the last good ones.”

            “Oh, hon, you’re too sweet.”  JC pulls her to him so they can share a friendly kiss.  “You’ll find him, I know it.  You’re ambitious and confident and sweet and hot and gorgeous—”

            “You think I’m gorgeous?” Britney peeps, and then hiccups, still a bit tipsy.

            “Of course.  You’re…you know…beautiful, girl.”

            “You’re beautiful, too.”  Britney nods, and then JC nods, and then they both smile.  And then they kiss again.  It’s playful and soft and just past platonic.  “You’re a really beautiful guy.”  Another kiss, softer but longer than before.  JC is too happy with current developments and impending fatherhood to mind the kissing.  And it does feel nice.  Britney has really soft lips.  And really soft skin.  And really soft fingers on his face.  And really soft, full breasts that he accidentally touches, which makes her start.

            “JC.”

            “Sorry.”

            “No, it’s.  I just need to.”  She rolls on her back.  “I just, um, it hasn’t been 20 minutes yet, so.”  She smiles shyly and wraps her arms around JC’s neck.  He scoops her legs up to press them to her chest, but with her pulling him and him pushing her, he ends up on top of her, between her legs.  And there’s something else she has that’s really, very, wonderfully soft.

            “Oh.”  He looks down at her, and she suddenly looks like someone else, someone he’d have slept with back in his straight-um-well-bi-actually-maybe-not days.  She runs her hands up and down his arms, which are holding him up over her, just out of her reach.  “Hi,” he whispers.

            “Hi.”  She pulls him down on top of her.  It’s been over a decade since JC has felt a naked woman underneath him.  It’s been almost a decade since he’s felt anyone but Justin underneath him, male or female, naked or otherwise.  They close their eyes and just press their mouths together.  JC wonders if this is how Britney consummates all her new-old purely platonic friendships.  Maybe he’ll call Christina Aguilera to find out.

            “Maybe I shouldn’t—am I too heavy?”

            “You’re fine, JC.”  Britney plays with his hair, smiling at the curls encircling her fingers.

            “You like curly hair,” JC says, not at all considering that this may remind her of Justin.

            “I like your hair, JC.  I like all of you.  I always did.”

            “Oh.”  JC’s eyes widen, and Britney giggles a bit.

            “Not like that, JC.  I’m through with falling in love with gay men.”  She looks a little sad, and JC feels a little guilty.  He was, after all, the one and only man Justin ever loved.  So he kisses her.  And she kisses back.  And wraps her legs around him.  And slides her belly up against him.  Then she gasps.

            Mmmph…sorry!”

            “No, it’s…mmmm.  Wow, JC.”  Britney lies flat so she can look down between their bodies.  “Nice,” she murmurs.  JC doesn’t even blush.  There’s no extra blood in his body to rush to his face.  “You’ve been ha…all this time, haven’t you, sweetie?”

            “Yeah,” JC hisses, because, girl or boy, skin on skin feels real good.

            “Did you like watching us?”

            “I did.”  They kiss again.  JC is confused, but he’s used to the feeling, so he goes with it.  Britney squirms underneath him, and JC wonders momentarily if she’s trying to excite him or get away from him.  His question is answered when he feels her soft hand between his legs.

            “Is this ok?” Britney asks, and she manages to blush through her lustful smile.

            “Yes,” JC answers before he can think about it.  They French kiss while JC tries to forget that this is his lover’s ex and best girlfriend underneath him, licking his open mouth, gently stroking his cock like it’s not the most unlikely thing in the world.

            “All this time,” she whispers as her hand slows down but squeezes, “you were…mmm.  Why didn’t you join in?”

            “Um.”  JC looks quickly out of the corner of his eye to Justin’s dozing body.  “I didn’t think I…I mean…it wasn’t my place to—”

            “Did you want to?”

            “Well,” JC hisses when Britney’s hand slides up and down.  “I, uh…Brit, what are we doing?”

            “I’m sorry—”

            “No, I just didn’t want to—”

            “I just…we…I really…I feel…wanted to share this.  With you.”  Britney blushes and removes her hand.  JC suddenly realizes he doesn’t want her to.

            “Britney.”  She looks up at him with eyes that are both sympathetic and shameless.  “You’re really sweet, you know that?”  JC quickly thinks years ahead, to the day that this child that the 3 of them are making will be sat down and told “where babies come from”, and he can honestly say that, yes, daughter-or-son, I was there, too.  So he smiles and kisses her.  He also puts her hand back where he wants it.

            “May I?” JC whispers, his hand in the center of her chest itching to move to the side.  She lets go of his penis, but before JC can protest she lifts his hand and places it on her ample breast.

            “You’ve got nice hands, JC.”  She smirks as he squeezes, very lightly.

            “You’ve got a nice rack, baby!”

            “Hey, don’t you objectify me!” Britney teases.  She squeezes him between her strong thighs, making him moan, and states, “This is the mother of your child you’re talking to.”  JC’s breath catches in his throat.  His child.  It’s the first time anyone’s said that—it’s always been “Justin’s and Britney’s” or “Justin’s and his”, or just “Justin’s.”  He tries to convey his feeling of gratefulness, but all he can utter is, “Oh.”  She frees his hands to explore on their own.  JC is careful, still unsure of why or what or how, but he knows it feels nice.  He can’t stop giggling a little, because he’s still tipsy, and because this is just so weird, and because Justin is right there, and because, well, it’s Britney.

            “That feels nice,” Britney coos as she arches her back.  JC stares at the flesh in his hands, and wonders suddenly what it would taste like.  He starts to ask permission, but he’s encouraged enough by the way she’s rubbing herself against him.  So he kisses her neck, and then her collarbone, and then a birthmark in the center of her chest.  He figures by now she’ll get the hint, and punch him in the stomach if he’s overstepping by going for her—

            Mmph.”  JC’s a little surprised at the force with which Britney thrusts her left breast into his mouth.  She sighs contentedly and falls flat on the bed.

            “Go on.”

            Mmmkay,” he mumbles, careful not to bite the swollen nipple.  A little saliva, a little tongue, and Britney’s legs seem to wrap around his hips, holding him tight with no promise of giving him back.  He inhales deeply—there’s a faint trace of Justin’s scent still on her skin.  He licks his lips and considers where he might find a stronger, more tangible part of his lover on Britney’s body.

            Jaaaaccccceeeeyyy.”  He looks up quickly to find her sucking on her finger.  For a second it’s a little disconcerting, like he’s looking at some circa 1999 fake Internet picture where someone superimposed her somewhat virginal 17 year old head on a pornstar’s body.  He’d watched Justin mock those things for months before he found out Justin was seeing the real thing, for real, not just for publicity.  It took JC months to admit to himself that it wasn’t welcome news.  “JC…that’s nice.”  Her eyes are heavy, and her hips are strong underneath him.  She cradles his face with one hand, and then moves her finger from her own mouth to his lips.  He watches her eyes close as she lubricates her right nipple, getting it nice and wet and hard for him before she pushes his head down to capture it between his lips.  She moans long and deep as he suckles her.  Then he stops abruptly.  “What?”

            “The…our baby will…you know,” JC whispers as he reverently kisses her full breast.  “It’s amazing.”  She breathes loudly as she watches him, squirming uncomfortably until his proud papa moment passes and his dry, protective kisses go back to being wet, noisy, and covetous.

            “Oh.  Ooohhhhh,” she hisses at the long, curling swipes of tongue over her swollen nipples.  JC mentally high fives himself—he hasn’t lost his touch with the ladies.  Not that he’ll ever need to use his hetero skills, but it’s nice to know he can still turn on a woman.  By the way Britney is panting and arching her back and pushing his head down, JC figures he may have even improved with age.  He touches and kisses her arms, her sides, her hips, and her belly, all the while drawn to the strong scent of Britney and Justin’s union.  He looks up, just to make sure, but she’s already spreading her legs.

            “You want me to?” JC asks politely.

            “If…if you want.  Do you?  Wanna?” Britney teases as touches herself.  “I want you to,” she coos.  JC kisses her inner thighs and thinks about Justin.  He replaces her hand with his own and thinks about watching Justin do this earlier.  He strokes and teases her vulva and remembers the sight of Justin slipping inside.  He’s not jealous at all anymore.  He’s too turned on to be jealous, too curious about what the reigning pop diva tastes like to resent the ghost of his lover still on her, inside her.  Gently he kisses her between her legs.

            Mmm.”

            Another, longer, wet kiss.

            “Shit, JC.”

            Tongue.

            “Oh my Goooooooo—”

            “What’s goin—oh my—has hell frozen over?”  JC shrinks back, but is caught from retreat by Britney’s strong thighs getting him in a tight, surprised stranglehold.  They freeze, eyes wide and amused as Justin yawns and sits up in the bed.  Once his eyes adjust, a huge smile spreads across his face.  “Well, well, well.  When the cat’s away, huh?”

            “J, baby, um, I can explain,” JC grunts, starting to turn red from embarrassment and lack of oxygen.

            “It just happened, you know?” Britney squeaks.  JC nudges her, and she giggles as she relaxes her legs.

            “Britney and I were, um, talking, and we’ve really bonded—”

            “Well, we’ve come to an understanding—”

            “We’re really getting along better—”

            “Plus, he’s a really good kisser—”

            “And we—I am?”  JC glances at Britney, and then smiles bashfully. 

            Justin smiles and crawls over to them.  He kisses Britney briefly on the cheek, then JC on the mouth before whispering, “I want to watch.”

            “Seriously.  Seriously?”

            “Yeah,” Justin sighs into JC’s mouth.  “Kiss her again.”  Justin nudges Britney until she lies back again.  JC looks at him with disbelief, but he lets Justin push him back down on the bed, too.  “Go on, baby.”

            JC is careful with her.  He holds her hips as still as he can as he kisses her inner thighs, her mons, her labia.  He slips another pillow beneath her, ensuring that she does not lose what Justin worked so hard to plant within her.  JC smiles as she groans and grabs his hair—it’s been a very long time since he’s tasted a woman, and he may be a bit overzealous, but Justin is right there, kissing his back and encouraging him.  With his lover’s breath and weight on his back and a woman’s musky sweetness on his lips, JC thinks he might come by sheer force of will.

            “Oh.  JC…oh.”

            “She likes you,” Justin growls as he watches JC’s tongue slip into Britney’s body.  “Not too deep baby.”

            Ohhhplleeeaaaasseee.”

            “Does she taste good, C?” Justin murmurs breathily.

            JC licks his lips and whispers, “She tastes…like you, baby.”  Justin grins.  “You’re all over her.”

            Oohh.  C’mon.”  Both men look down at Britney, her hips undulating anxiously.  She slides a hand down between her legs, gingerly appeasing the flesh that JC’s mouth has awakened.  “You got me so hot,” she sighs.  She tilts her hips as her fingers open her engorged lips.  OhhJaaaaacccccyy.”  Suddenly her hand is back on JC’s cock.  She strokes it as she writhes on the bed, her big eyes glued to his.  Yes, it’s been a very long time since he’s wanted a woman.

            “Britney.”

            “C’mon.”

            “But.”  JC looks at his lover.  “J?”

            “Yeah,” Justin sighs.  “Please do.  If it’s ok with you, Brit.”

            “C’mon,” she sighs, pulling on him.

            “I don’t think I—” JC is there, on top of her, between her legs, grinding his unsatisfied erection against her before he can finish his thought.  Britney is pretty strong.  Her legs clamp on him, and he’s caught between a rock and a very, very, soft, wet, inviting place.

            “We’re getting along so well,” Britney groans, and rubs herself against JC’s eager body.  “Justin…is it alright?”  Justin smiles and presses JC’s body forward with a hand on his lower back.  “It’s ok, JC.  Just do it.  It won’t undo anything, I promise.  It’s just…for us.”

            “Oh, Brit.  Are you sure?” JC croaks, his hand ready to guide his weeping flesh to hers like a reflex.  She nods emphatically and lifts her hips to meet him.  “J…are you sure?”

            “Baby…do it.”  So JC does.

            “Oh.  OH!”

            Ssshhh, Brit,” Justin coos.  JC holds his breath as he slides inside slowly, carefully, as he imagines pushing Justin’s swimmers forward instead of displacing them.  JC hisses at the slickness, the warmth, the clinging that’s at once so new but also brings back long-forgotten memories.  JC pushes forward, sliding his cock deeper into a woman whom he never in a million years would have expected to be inside.  He can’t help smiling at the thrill of it.  He’s living out the dream of a billion men.

            “You ok, Brit?” JC hisses.  “Are you sure…this won’t…I  mean…dislocate something?” JC giggles, trying very hard to visualize his textbook diagrams of the internal female reproductive system.

            “Oh, that’s good,” Britney sighs as she arches, tilts, writhes, squirms, and then squeezes JC with her vagina.

            Awww…fuck, yeah.”

            “C’mon.  Faster.”  Britney thrusts against him and forces her tongue into JC’s mouth.  He’s just a bit startled, but he enjoys feeling wanted so much by someone new.  If a pseudo-friendly, slightly competitive secondhand friendship of twenty years can be considered new.

            “Damn.  This is so.”

            “What?”

            Mmm,” JC hums as he kisses her, partially because he’s so turned on, partially because he doesn’t want to answer.  This is weird, freaky, unexpected, and surprisingly poignant.  Especially poignant is the look on Justin’s face.  “Justin, baby, you alright?”

            “Yes,” Justin whispers.  He kisses his husband deeply, then pulls away.  His eyes are slightly wet.  “JC…I love you.”

            “I love you, honey.”  They both look down at Britney, who’s biting her lip like she’s trying not to growl.  “Thank you, Brit.”

            “Aw, sweetie.”  JC presses down on her, into her, fucking her until she clamps down onto him tightly from arms to feet, with her mouth, her fingers, her sex.  “Aw, JC…make me…oh.”  JC nods and slips his hand down between their bodies without missing a beat.  Justin kneels next to them and watches happily as JC moistens his fingertips with her wetness before gently pressing them to her throbbing clitoris.

            “JC, you’re so beautiful,” Justin murmurs against his lover’s neck.  “I love watching you like this.”

            “Are you jealous?” JC whispers with a smile.

            “Yes.”

            “Good.”

            “Hey!  Remember me?” Britney squeaks.

            “Oh, yeah.  I remember you,” JC groans into her mouth.  “I haven’t forgotten you, baby.”

            “Yeah?”

            “Come with me?” JC asks/demands.  Britney bites her lip and looks at Justin, who lies down next to her and wraps a strong arm around them both.  “Oh…Justin…I should—”

            “Please,” Justin and Britney say together, pulling JC into an awkward but sweet three-way kiss.  JC nods his head and lets go, lets go of all the jealously and the insecurity and worry that he’s held onto over the years, lets it all go as he lets himself go inside Britney, inside the future mother of Justin’s child.  He cries out Justin’s name as his fingers stroke her into a body-shaking climax.  Justin answers him with soft kisses to JC’s face.

            “Yes,” is all Britney can utter as she catches her breath.  Her eyes closed, her hips still moving, she wraps shaking arms around JC’s neck.  When he can look her in the eye, she whispers, “Thank you, my friend.”

            “Thank you, honey.  Thank you so much.”  JC can’t think of a way to convey how glad he is to be a part of his and Justin’s child, so he doesn’t try.  They kiss slowly for a second, but Justin’s soft sniffle stops them.  “J?”

            “I just…I don’t know.  I’m happy,” Justin whispers.  He’s not crying, but he’s that close.

            Britney sighs loudly and wiggles a little underneath JC’s weight.  JC blushes as he moves to peel away from her.  “Sorry, I’m probably too heavy—”

            “Just a little,” Britney coos as she wipes the hair out of JC’s eye.

            “God, I’m sorry, I’ll just—”

            “No.  Don’t go yet.”  Britney wraps her legs around him, pulling him so his lower body stays in contact with hers, so their bodies are still connected, but with JC’s weight on his knees and hands.  “Stay here with me.  With us.”

            “I’m, um,” JC mumbles, looking down at his softening penis easing out of her body on its own.  Justin takes the initiative, propping the pillow underneath Britney’s hips and carefully separating them with a gentle hand.

            “There.  Lay still, Brit,” Justin murmurs as JC looks at him with a huge question in his eye.  “JC.  Is this ok?”  JC swallows, like that’s going to clear his ears.

            “J…what…Brit?”  JC looks from one to the other.  “Really?”

            “Why not?” Britney answers with mock nonchalance.  “Maybe your boys can give Justin’s a run for their money, huh?”

            “I don’t know what to say.”  JC thinks he might really cry if he says anything more, so he nods his head, and lays on Britney’s right side while Justin takes the left.  They cuddle up, but JC utters a soft “thank you” before they all fall asleep.

 

            In order to maximize opportunity, they decide to have sex a few more times over the weekend.  JC says he’ll only watch, but he lets Britney have him one more time, with Justin’s enthusiastic encouragement...and naked Justin rubbing up against his ass the whole time. 

            By Sunday afternoon Britney says she feels like a gangbanged porn star and has to stop.  JC and Justin take her home, put her to bed, and make themselves useful around her house.  They fix a leaky faucet, take out the trash, and install childproof locks on all the medicine cabinets.  Just in case.  Then they return to their home, take a hot bath together, eat a steak, put on thick, sexless pajamas, and fall asleep with nothing more than a chaste kiss.

           

            Exhausted and sex-dizzy, Britney sleeps through her alarm clock and only wakes up in time to throw on a tracksuit and head to the airport with her entourage, her doctor’s appointment completely forgotten.

<<<<<>>>>> 

<<<<<>>>>> 

            A Labor Day barbeque sounded like a good idea two weeks ago, but now JC wishes that they’d just ordered out for pizza.  Joey and Chris, who’d promised to be in charge of the grill, are actually having too much fun chasing their combined 5 children around the pool to tend to the food.  Their wives and Lance’s boyfriend are upstairs in the theatre, catching up and screening an advance copy of Justin’s soon-to-be-released movie.  Between handling his business by cell phone and tending bar, Lance is unable—unwilling, really—to help with the food.  So JC is left to manage the grill by himself, as Justin is too busy playing “host” to do anything else.

            “J, can you bring me another platter for the turkey hot dogs?” yells JC, tongs in both hands, eyes full of smoke.  “Justin?  Justin!”

            “Be right there, C.”  Justin fills a sippycup with heavily diluted apple juice and hands it to Chris’s 3 year old daughter.  “There you go, baby girl.”  He kisses the child’s rosy cheek and smilingly watches her toddle away to her father before returning to his cell phone conversation.  “As I was saying, I already told my agent that I’m planning to take a lot of time off next year.”

            “Justin, I could really use some help here!” JC screeches.

            “I’ll promote this film, of course.  But I just want 2014 for myself.  And my family.”

            Ow!  I just burned myself!”

            “Whatever happens,” Justin muses, “I’m gonna be a homebody next year.”

            “Justin!  If you don’t get your little butt over here right now!”  JC immediately regrets his outburst when all the children in the backyard squeal and their parents frown at him.  “Uncle JC’s sorry, kids,” he mumbles when Justin heaves himself from his chair, clicks off his phone and rushes to his side.

            “Temper, temper!” Justin laughs and squeezes JC around the middle.

            “I’m sorry, but you’re not helping me, and I only have 2 hands, and I’m afraid the medium-well burgers are well done, and the kielbasa burned my finger, and…and…ugh!”

            “Calm down, sweetheart,” Justin giggles.  “I’ll help you right—oh!  There’s the phone.  I’ll get it!”  JC watches Justin run into the house, and then he squeezes his eyes shut and counts to twenty.

            At twelve Joey takes over at the grill, so JC heads inside to get more utensils.  On his way to the kitchen he catches sight of Justin in the den.  He’s unsettlingly still, with his back to JC, the phone dangling from the crook of his neck.  JC stops cold.

            “J?”  Justin turns around suddenly.  His eyes are red.  “Oh my God, what is it?”

            C’mere, honey.”  JC rushes to his husband, even though it feels like he’s walking through mud.  “JC…it’s Britney.”

            “What?” JC whispers, his heart pounding.  “What happened to her?”

            We happened to her.”  Justin drops the phone and embraces JC with shaking arms.  He waits for JC’s equally anxious clinch before whispering, “She’s pregnant, baby.”

            “Oh…Jus…oh.”  JC’s throat tightens and his eyes start to fill.  He can’t help himself.  “Congratulations, daddy,” he whispers before giving his husband a soft kiss.

            “You, too.  Daddy.”

<<<<<>>>>> 

<<<<<>>>>> 

Fifteen months later…

           

            The house is abnormally quiet save the gentle suckling sounds of the baby in Justin’s arms—a boy with dark blue eyes and a few light brown spirals on his head.  Justin has yet to master the correct way to hold a bottle, if the baby’s excessive gas and spit up on Justin’s shirt are any indication.  Despite Justin’s lack of technique, the boy feeds like a trooper, like he’s racing to finish his bottle.  His competition, a baby girl with a smattering of chocolate hair, looks up at JC with her silvery blue eyes as she works on her own bottle.  She takes a bit longer to feed, but she’s much less messy than her fraternal twin brother.  JC’s gaze travels from the baby girl to her brother and back again.  He’s still amazed at how much two 6 month old babies can eat.  There’s a week’s worth of expressed breast milk in the freezer.  Britney assured them it would last while she sweated and herbal-detoxed off the last 5 pounds of her pregnancy weight at an exclusive spa in New Mexico.  Justin hadn’t given the matter a second thought, but JC just couldn’t fathom how it could last a full week.  He’d mentioned it casually on the second day during one of Britney’s 6 or 10 daily calls from the spa.  She’d reassured JC that what she left them would be fine, and then she kissed her babies through the phone.  The next morning one of Britney’s three personal assistants arrived, having driven straight from New Mexico, with a large container of freshly expressed milk.  Just in case.

            That kind of devotion, JC knows, is what is going to make these babies flourish, what will strengthen them, what will overcome any confusion that having 1 mother and 2 different fathers might bring.  And what will certainly spoil these two babies rotten.

            “She looks like you,” JC murmurs as he tickles the little girl’s plump cheeks.

            “Baby, you know that’s impossible,” Justin laughs as he rocks his son in the rocking chair that Britney’s new boyfriend made with his own hands.

            “She does, man.  She’s got your cocky smirk.”

            “Don’t say cock in front of my daughter!  She’s a lady!”  At Justin’s outburst the boy in his arms starts to cry.  “Oh, don’t cry, baby!  Daddy’s sorry!”

            “Here, let’s switch.  You know he’ll only stop crying for me.”  Justin rolls his eyes and gently hands his son over to JC and then takes his daughter.  JC sits back on the couch and coos for his son, and soon the boy quiets down and continues feeding.  “That’s my boy.”

            “He loves his daddy,” Justin says proudly. 

            “Yeah, he really does.”  JC kisses his son’s forehead, and Justin does the same to his daughter, who yawns and smiles.  “Man, are you sure the doctors know what’s what?  I’m telling you, this girl has my personality.  She can’t help being the center of attention, unlike some people we know!”

            “Oh, please, you’re so droll,” JC says with a laugh.  “But I know what you mean.  Our son here really enjoys having his diaper changed to retro acid house music, and Miss Thing over there seems to like nothing but Snoop Dog nursery rhymes!  I don’t get it at all!”

            “Don’t listen to him, baby girl,” Justin coos to his daughter.  “You’re mine, no matter whose DNA you have.”

            “That’s right,” JC whispers as he kisses the boy’s tiny hands.  “I love both my babies.”  He looks down into his son’s dark blue eyes.  “Now, while we’re on the subject: can you spell D-N-A?”

            “Josh, stop it!”

            “Quick!  Go put in the Infant Hooked on Phonics DVD!”

            “You’re incorrigible!”

            “Oh!  SAT word!” JC picks the baby up and looks at him at eye level.  “Sound it out, son, sound it out…”

            “Your father is going to drive us all insane,” Justin says to his daughter.  She smiles up at him with shimmering silver eyes and pats his face with her tiny hand.  “Wow.  Look at this family of mine.  I never knew I could love anything this much.  Jace?”

            “—I want you both conjugating verbs before kindergarten.  Yes, baby?”

            “You think Britney wants some more kids?”

            “Oh, baby.”

            “I think I’m gonna want at least 2 more.”

            “Maybe we should ask Britney about it when these two are a little older,” JC giggles.

            “Yeah, maybe we should.”  Justin holds his daughter close and nuzzles her hair.  It’s identical to JC’s in color and texture, but the scent of peach baby shampoo and the basketball bib she wears are all Justin.  He looks over at JC kissing their son’s tiny feet, which are sure to grow enormously in about 15 years.  The little boy blows bubbles as JC coos corny little alternative family-friendly nursery rhymes to him.  Then JC looks up at his husband with the sweetest, most sincere smile that Justin has ever seen.  Justin bites his lip and murmurs, “Or…we could adopt.”  JC’s eyes disappear into silvery-blue pools, but he doesn’t answer.  He simply sniffs, nods his head and hugs his baby son to him before wiping his eye.  Justin does the same with his daughter.  “Yeah, that’d be just fine.”

 

 

Copyright © October 11, 2004 by KTA

Started: August 17, 2003

Finished: October 11, 2004

 

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