| Title: Sightline (1/1) Author(s): Deb and Sar Feedback: Yes please Email: Deb (ROBNIEDSME@aol.com) and Sar (Saharafic@aol.com) Pairing: JC Chasez/Kevin Richardson Fandom: BSB/NSYNC Date: 6/27/01 Websites: Not yet... Summary: Kevin and JC run into each other...and sparks fly Notes: Violence, man man love, adultery and chicken wings. RPS. No like-y? No read-y. Beta: Not so much. Have at it kids. Dedicated to: (Sar) Kevin...for saying "I'd like to see Kevin stick it to JC" which got our sick minds a workin overtime...and...Charlie...for being at the Ale House...in the mud. (Deb) To Kevin - for giving us the idea to pair these two up in a chat one night. Hope we managed to do your idea justice. And from both of us to each other...for writing it together and sticking this one out. Its been a long birth lol. ============= Sightline Kevin Richardson leaned back in his chair and glanced around the pub. Good wings, good service, great atmosphere. That was all he wanted. Just to feel like a normal guy, not a pop star. He watched as Brian devoured the teriyaki wings in front of him, pausing to sip his drink. He had been going so fast for so long, that he really didn't remember how to relax. He curled his toes in his shoes, and flexed his legs under the booth, trying to work out some nervous energy. His eyes flitted across the room, taking in the crowd. Frat guys, businessmen, tourists, locals, college girls, bar chicks. Typical crowd. Then his eyes fell on a small booth, on the other side of the half wall that divided the room. Secluded, like theirs. Dimly lit, like theirs. With two men, eating wings and watching the Knicks play on the screen beside them. Joey Fatone. And JC Chasez. //Fuckin NSYNC. Shit. Like I need this.// "Goddammit." "Kevin, watch your mouth. What's wrong?" Kevin laughed at Brian's ability to scold him even after all these years. "Sorry. Its just...look." He nodded his head toward the two men at the booth. Brain shook his head and laughed softly. "Oh no," Brian deadpanned. "You know, Cuz, they *do* live in this town. I bet they even like the food here. Hell, I bet they don't even care about us being here. Probably don't even *notice* us. Just let it be, OK?" "I just, ugh," Kevin whined. "You know, it's like I cant get away from them. This is supposed to be my break! I shouldn't have to see some half-assed wannabes who swooped in and took over the fan base that *we* worked our asses off to build." "Kevin..." "No! Its not right. And ya know, of all the ones to be here. That fairy Chasez! God, that man wears more makeup than Kris does! And shakes his ass in those flashy clothes. Lou musta worked his magic on them alright. Turned them into what we refused to be." "Kevin..." "And to think people *compare* us. Not just the bands, but us personally! They compare me to that fruitcake! Jesus!" "*Kevin!" "Shit. Sorry..." "No. Like I said...they didn't even know we were here. They do *now*!" Kevin looked over to see icy blue eyes glaring from a flushed face. "What are you looking at like that?" Joey Fatone asked upon taking notice to the strained statement on his friend's face. JC sat silent, unmoved -- statue like. He was the opposite of life like. An icy glare transfixed on something across the restaurant that had his nostrils flaring and the veins at the side of his neck pulsing visibly. Joey followed his friend's eyes through the smoke to the opposite end of the establishment. "Oh, I see now. Big deal man. Why are you going to let it bother you?" "Because I came here to sit and relax, not be glared at by some guy that looks like he just crawled out of the sewer, that's why." The reply was cold and short and felt like ice as it reached Joey's ears. When JC answered a question in the tone he used just then, Joey knew there was no talking him down. He simply shrugged his shoulders and returned his attention back to the television that rested on a display just above their table. "If he doesn't stop staring at me like that, I'm going to give him something to really look at. What will it be, Kevin? Wanna see the ring we got when we went diamond with our debut record? Wanna see the big fat bonus we got when we broke the sales record that you guys couldn't cut?" JC mumbled under his breath. His eyes were still locked on the menacing pair that refused to look anywhere but at their table. The steady glare angered JC more than he imagined, and he soon found himself resisting the urge to stalk over to their table and stand face to face with the man who chose to make a mockery of the accomplishments JC and his friends had worked so hard for. But JC resisted, partly because of the fact that Joey was with him, and Joey was always the voice of reason. Joe would rather go over and say hello, asking Brian how his dogs are doing, than cause confrontation -- it was the pacifist in him, JC supposed. JC was never one to succumb to the desires of rage, but Kevin's words infuriated him. That's when it happened. "Oh, he did not. He did *not* just fucking do that. That's it, it's on now," JC growled, throwing his napkin down on the table and jumping to his feet before Joey had the chance to stop him Brian looked up and saw JC moving through the haze of smoke and sexual innuendo that surrounded the bar area -- coming toward their table. "What'd you do?" Brian asked instantly. he looked to his cousin who had a devilish smirk spread across his face, his hands wringing the paper napkin in anticipation. "Just threw a little wink his way, that's all Bri. He probably thinks I want it, now. Mr. Conceited probably thinks I'm one of his closeted groupies," Kevin laughed. JC got to the table and placed his hands flat against the cool wood surface and leaned down, bringing his face to within a breath's distance from Kevin's. Blue eyes glared at green, and jaws locked in unison. Joey ran up to JC's side and said a simple 'hello' to Brian before placing his arm around JC's shoulders and attempting to usher him back to their side of the restaurant. "Isn't that cute, Bri? Arm around the shoulders. Sweet that they're so public with their love, isn't it? Tell me boys, are you the star of one another's 'Liquid Dreams?' Oh, wait -- that's the *other* impostor screw ups. So sorry," Kevin smiled as he sat back, his arm now fully extended along the back of the booth. Joey turned this time. "Please guys. Not tonight, okay? This is a public place and we're all just trying to have a nice dinner without getting noticed and mobbed. Save the God complexes for the next awards show, huh?" Joey suggested. "Would that be where we beat you out again?" Kevin asked smugly. Joey's face showed clear despair -- the choice of continuing the immature banter or walking away, and looking like a coward. Before he could retort, Brian chimed in. "Look, let it go, Kev. It's not worth it. Don't play into it any more than you already have. All of you," Brian pleaded. "Thank you Brian" Joey said calmly as he released the grasp he held on JC's arm. "Yeah, thank you for not letting your cousin embarrass himself anymore than he already does on a daily basis. He met his limit around ten this morning, I imagine," JC threw in. The comment enraged Kevin to the point where he stood and came face to face with JC once again. Shoulders were squared and tempers flared. "Outside. If you must, just go outside. This is ridiculous," Brian commented as he dropped a fifty on the table and walked out of the doors before any of the three could protest. Soon, they were all standing around outside as if they were back in high school waiting for the three o' clock round in the courtyard. "So, you're out here now. Big men. What are you going to do? Gonna clock him one, Kev?" Joey asked as he stood leaning against a random car, his arms folded at his chest. "Now Joseph. Do I look capable of physical harm?" Kevin drawled coolly as he kept his strong stance before a fuming JC. "No, but the smell wafting from whatever it is that you put in your hair is certainly capable of knocking me out. Possibly even more than any punch you could possibly throw. What is that? Castor oil?" JC smiled. "Cute. Well, some of us aren't as gifted to simply stick our fingers in a light socket while our boyfriend gives us sloppy head. So, I guess very few can achieve your look." Kevin's words sent JC lunging straight for him. Brian stepped between them as Joey held JC back by the arms. The wiry man squirmed in his friend's grasp while the shorter of them all held his cousin back with a pressing hand to the chest and a stern gaze. Both of the angered men conceded and the calm parties watched as the rage escaped from the others. They bid one another good night and went their separate ways after a cordial, but tense, handshake. ------------------------------------ JC watched Joey's truck pulled out of the lot. He had assured his friend that the anger had passed and laughed off the incident. Joey had grudgingly conceded, leaving separately from JC. So now he sat in his car and watched as the focus of his anger climbed into his own vehicle, Brian climbing into the passenger seat. JC waited til they had pulled away, then started his car, and followed. Maintaining a respectable distance, JC followed Kevin, pausing a block back as the man dropped his friend off. Finally Kevin pulled into his own drive. He turned from his porch at the sound of a door slamming. "Fuck man, this is my house!" Kevin yelled as he saw JC heading towards him. "Yeah. So it is." "And what are you planning to do? Kick the shit outta me in front of my wife?" Shit. Forgot about the wife. JCs thoughts were interrupted by a swift fist to the gut. "Lucky for me, she isn't home." With that, Kevin fell on JC, fists flying. It took JC a moment to recover from the shock and deliver his own blows. JC caught a punch to the jaw that rattled his brain, but managed to return with a shot to Kevin's nose. They tumbled to the ground in a fit of fists and claws. Finally they pulled apart, panting with exertion. Blood dripped and stung JC's eye and he wiped the spit and blood from his swollen mouth. Kevin's nose was twisted at an unnatural angle and he spat out a cracked tooth. JC lay on Kevin's prone form and stared intensely at him, feeling his chest heave. Kevin leaned up and pressed his lips against JC's, tasting the metallic of the blood. JC pushed Kevin off of him and scrambled to his feet. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Richardson?" "What you wanted me to do. Don't deny it. You know you did," Kevin answered as he pulled his knees to his chest and remained sitting on the asphalt of his driveway. JC's stare went from anger to confusion mixed with irritation. "And just what in the hell makes you think I wanted you to stick your fucking lips on mine?" "Because you liked it so much the first time it happened. I saw that same look in your eye that night." JC's face went blank. His body appeared to crumble into the position it now rested in beside Kevin. "You remember that?" he asked, his voice soft and childlike. Kevin's answer had a sound of confidence that was a surprise to both men. "Of course I do. Sure, it was a few years back, but things like that are not easily forgotten." Neither could be sure how the conversation in the driveway about the night they met up in the bathroom during an after party for the 1998 American Music Awards, moved into the house and all conversation ceased save the occasional moan of a name and the call out to the man above. Kevin fell on top of JC, pressing him roughly into the soft cushions of the couch. "Good thing Kristin's not home," Kevin breathed heavily just before his lips attached to JC's neck. "You're telling me." The words came out in a guttural moan accompanied by the licking of lips. Shirts were soon torn off and pants were tossed aside. The foreplay was rough and scary and just what each of them had wanted. Soon boxers were being slid down past knees to rest on ankles that were all but locked together. "Tell me you want this," Kevin groaned as JC's hand worked in a fevered pace on Kevin's cock. "I want this," came the choked out reply. Sweat slicked their bodies already and Kevin slid down JC's body with ease to tease JC's cock with his tongue. Upon hearing the answer, Kevin reappeared in JC's sightline, his face strong and menacing and his eyes holding a certain mystery to them. "No. Tell me that you want me to fuck you." "Fuck me. Please, Kevin. I want you to fuck me." Kevin hoisted JC's legs into the air, stopping to rip the boxers from around JC's ankles and tossing them by the wayside. Kevin's gaze lingered at JC's ass. A familiar feeling as Kevin had been eyeing JC ever since they'd first met in 1995. Something about JC's demeanor that he couldn't quite put his finger on until he got to know him just a little more. A flamboyant side that he tried to neither mask nor hide, but that occasionally gave way to a masculine act or appearance. Very much how Kevin was at that age. And that was the allure. It wasn't until that night in the bathroom of the now forgotten-named club that Kevin had learned he was right, to an extent, about JC. He liked his bread buttered on both sides. And he gave whomever was lucky enough to have him a wild enough ride to make them think about him for days after. Kevin had a mystery to him that JC didn't like very much. A smart comment here or a nasty look there, but something always resting behind it. Something that made the confidence fade and the apprehension shine through just a little bit more. Something that made him more of a human. And damn sexy. And that something led them to where they were now. On the Richardson's living room floor of soft, Stainmaster carpet in hunter green. The words were as harsh as the actions and there was no love involved. "Spit in my hand," Kevin said quickly. JC obliged in fear that the feeling would subside and Kevin would stop altogether. Kevin rubbed the saliva on his own cock before ordering JC to spit again, using the second offering to lube JC in order to provide a little less discomfort. Kevin used two fingers to prepare JC while his tongue tended to JC's erection. Once the fingers and the lips disappeared, so did the gentle care. It was replaced by a deep thrust and a heavy feeling in the pit of JC's stomach. With his ankles carefully placed on either side of Kevin's head, JC moved his hand down his own body to reach for his cock and stroke himself while Kevin thrust deep inside of him, staring at the man above him and how his hair seemed to move fluidly with every motion. Kevin's wild eyes peered down at JC occasionally, but remained staring straight ahead for most of the time. Kevin stood on his knees, his one arm firm to his chest to hold JC's feet in place while his other hand closed over JC's in effort to help JC jerk himself off. The feeling he got from being so deep inside this man, a rival in many ways, was incredible to him. His deep thrusts were matched by JC moving his own hips against Kevin's motions. JC would pull back as Kevin pushed in only to thrust himself up when Kevin would pull out a little. JC was no rookie at this. He was fucking good. JC had the same thoughts as Kevin's thrusts picked up their pace and he began to scream that he was about to come. Together, their hands worked to bring JC to climax and he felt a sensation wash over him just as he felt his fingers grow slick and slid over Kevin's now equally wet fingers. Three thrusts later and Kevin's head was thrown back, his mouth agape, and his body shaking. Kevin pulled out gently. An act that didn't exactly match the session of raw fucking they'd just shared. He threw JC his boxers and khakis and stood to retrieve his own clothing. Kevin pointed to a nearby hall bathroom and plopped himself on the couch. When JC returned from cleaning himself off, he held out his hand for Kevin to shake. Upon completing the unusually awkward farewell, JC looked to the spot on the carpet they'd just besmirched, and focused his sightline in the direction Kevin had been looking while he was fucking him for the past twenty minutes. And as JC walked out the door, he took one final glance at the wedding picture of Kristin and Kevin Richardson. BACK |