He loved D.C.

For a few reasons, but one important one: JC.

The man was there every time. At every venue in D.C. the young brunette would be there, by the backstage door, waiting for him with a smile. Justin would suck on his teeth and avert his gaze to something less sexual, like the potted plant they always seemed to have.

It was a game.

Justin denied the brunette many a times, informing him, warning him of the new girlfriend he had, of the man he had been seeing lately, but the older man was never fazed, giving a dazzling smile as he pressed closer, catching Justin by the eyes. He would tell Justin, entice him, about how he could be, do anything he wanted. How he could fuck him like a lover and not be there when he woke up. He could be tied, with a cock in his mouth and Justin in his ass. He could do, be anything Justin wanted him to.

And it was only for him.

JC had a regular 9-5 job. A small music store in downtown Silver Spring, and there he was known as the quiet, isolated hottie who probably had no friends. Different as day and night.

"Look, you need to go."

JC's hand was in his pants and Justin was trying to talk around the brunette's tongue, his bare back pressed against the cold cement wall.

He was in D.C. again, his second stop to this state and JC had been waiting, a thin backstage pass wrapped around his slender neck. Auburn curls bounced as he looked up, coal underlining his crystal eyes, his hands sliding over his waist to rest on his jean clad hip. He had opted for the casual look and just looked like an ill tempered punk who just robbed a 7/11. Justin loved it.

"I have to get going, I got someone waiting for me--"

"And you'd rather be there than have me?" A firm squeeze to his cock told Justin which to choose, groaning deep in his throat.

"You're cheap," he spat after he mustered up enough courage, and enough brain cells, to think of a way out of the situation. But the results weren't to his liking.

"I am. You fuck me for free, that is cheap, ain't it?"

Justin narrowed his eyes, his hips moving naturally with JC's rhythm. "Why do you-- Oh shit," he murmured, licking his chapped lips, JC's lips curving against his as they kissed.

It was intoxicating.

JC tasted like the sweetest liquor and when his tongue licked deep into his throat, Justin's thirst was quenched, if only for a second.

His body was lean and tight and like a girl's, but so defined as a man's it was heaven when Justin's large hands roamed them absently, his fingertips itching to touch any and everywhere at once. He was greedy when it came to the young brunette, never having enough of him.

His eyes got to Justin the most. Something about the glass orbs, how they burned him, reeled him in, kept him wishing for the night he played in D.C., making sure he came to the state at least twice each tour. They were deadly, and they killed Justin every time, his eyes wide and watching as the orgasm bolted through him, shuddering through the afterwake, JC's eyes fluttering open to stare into his, scalding him.

Justin's heart was at the pit of his stomach, his jeans sliding over his sweaty thighs difficultly. He toed into his boots and dared not to look at JC who was dressing himself, pulling on a shirt.

"I don't get it," he whispered and JC looked up from tying his Air Force One's. Justin shook his head and frowned at him. "You're a slut and you like it. You're my slut and you like it," he whispered and JC had the grace to blush. Justin got angry. "And you're fucking playing yourself! What do you think-- I can't-- You're only hurting yourself!"

"Who the fuck cares?! You don't, I don't, it's not a problem. That's whats wrong with you, Justin," JC sneered, coming close, pointing a long finger to Justin's chest. "You think too much. You analyze everything, figuring out the wrong from the right and then you try to fix it, and it fucks with your head that you can't fix me," he ended with a sad smile. "But you need to stop, and just enjoy it."

"But you're... you can't just dismiss yourself like that--"

"I can and I have. Justin, stop worrying about me." There was a look on his face, one that let light in to his eyes, that filled them out and Justin cocked his head. Emotion was screwing up JC's face and Justin thought about it, smiling at JC's words.

"You're scared now."

"Fuck you." JC headed for the door but Justin caught his arm and whipped him around, piercing him with his own gaze.

"I hit a soft spot and you're scared. Why am I not supposed to worry about you? I sleep with you, I fuck you, as you love to say, so why can't I care for you?" JC twisted his arm and moaned as Justin's finger dug into his arm.

"Get off--"

"You want me to say it?"

JC was panting, his chest heaving quickly as he struggled to get free, Justin pressing him against the wood door.

"You want me to fucking say it?" Justin muttered and there were tears in JC's eyes, his pants trembling deep in his throat.

"Please..."

Justin blinked slowly before pinning JC, his cobalt blue staring straight into his crystal eyes, burning the brunette with his own power.

"I love you," he whispered and JC bit his lip, stopping with the struggle as he swallowed back the force of tears.

"Let go--"

"I do, ya know. I don't stop thinking about you--"

"You fucking don't!" JC pushed him away, tears slipping from his eyes as he closed them, wiping them away with the palms of his hands. "And if you ever fucking touch me again--"

"I'll watch for you next time. We come in about... two weeks. I scheduled D.C. three times this--"

"I won't fucking be here! You're a fucking... I can't... Fuck you," he ended with a sniffle and rubbed his nose, turning around to open the door when Justin put a simple hand on it, the weight closing shut, JC whimpering as new tears prodded at his eyes.

"You wanna say it back?"

"You're teasing me and you're getting off on it. You're a bastard."

Justin shook his head pressed against JC, the warmth of the other body causing a full body tremble. "I wouldn't be here if I was. I could say no if it was just a fuck. As a whore, you're replaceable--"

"Please," he wept. "Please, just let me leave--"

"But as I'm standing here, with you crying against the door, your heart in my hands, there's only one you."

"I'm begging you--"

Justin gritted his teeth. "I love you."

JC frowned and sighed, leaning forward to let his forehead rest against the wood door. He had given up, his shoulders slumping as he sobbed.

It was as close as he would get to the rockstar who was too high for him and here was said person, confessing his love for the loner who works at the dinky music shop, not the actress that JC had seen him with before or the singer who won that stupid TV show, but him. His tears singed his cheeks on their way down and the only thing keeping him for crying out was Justin's arm, wrapped tightly around his waist.

He wanted to say it back. Oh, how he wanted to say it back.

But he couldn't.

"Will you come back to my hotel?"

JC sniffled, not embarrassed, more nervous of what he would do. "I thought someone was waiting for you."

"I could tell them to leave, that I'm sick."

"Why?"

Justin sighed. "You're the most thick headed person I know."

"I'm just trying to not get caught up in this shit with you," JC spat back and Justin raised his eyebrows.

"You're in love with me and it's driving you crazy. I don't think you'd be too bad off actually having me for a night."

Ah, there was the catch and JC closed his eyes again. "Just a night? I already had you for 30 minutes, I don't think there's much more I want."

"But you need more than I can even give. So let me try, who would it hurt?"

"Me. Now, let me go so you can go," JC said and turned his head, cursing as Justin stared at him.

"So you're staying with me tonight?"

JC opened his mouth to protest when Justin's lips landed on his, his mouth soothing his soul, and before he knew it, he was on his back in the limo, headed for the hotel.

But when Justin woke up, he was naked and alone, cold as his eyes darted around the big room, his head falling back to the pillow as he realized JC wasn't there. The only thing he had to tide him over was the next D.C. concert.

And even then, as he leaned his back against the backstage door, metal digging into his shoulder blade, he was alone, the brunette never appearing.

JC never graced another concert again and Justin hoped, prayed, it was for the best.