Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:
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If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You shouldn't be here.
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I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or anything else. This is a work of pure fiction.
Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I've enjoyed hearing from all of you.
Please don't e-mail if all you're just going to complain about how much you miss Jack. Logic would dictate that the central character of the story is coming back at some point, and that his disappearance will be dealt with then. Stop thinking with your heart and start thinking with your brain before you fill up my inbox with whining. You know how you can make sure that everyone in the story is happy all the time, and only things you want to have happen take place? Write your own. This is the story I want to tell, and the way that I want to tell it.
That said, back to the story in progress.
Justin
My eyes were wide open with surprise as Josh knelt above me, climbing onto the bed, straddling me with just the sheet and his boxer briefs between us. He groaned into my mouth, the vibration coursing through me as his soft lips pressed against mine, his little beard scraping over my chin as his tongue pushed its way into my mouth, smooth and muscular, pressing inside of me as my own mouth just hung open. His hands on the side of my face were warm, holding me in place as he attacked me. He was pressing his face to mine with such force that I could feel his teeth pressing against mine through our lips, through the skin of our faces, and he was attacking my mouth with such urgency that I wondered if he was trying to consume me somehow.
I wondered for a second, running my hands over his arms and down to his hands, where they held my face in place and he continued to groan against me, his moans mixing with my own, if this might be a dream. I wondered if this could be some sort of fantasy produced by my alcohol and lust clouded brain, but I realized that the taste of Josh's mouth, the silky sandpaper feel of his tongue, the smell of scotch on him and the velvet smoothness of his skin was real. The hard cock I felt grinding against mine was no dream.
There was enough light filtering in from the hallway that I could see Josh's face, or at least his eyes, and they were closed. His eyebrows were squeezed together a little, his whole expression one of urgency and need, and I could see his eyes darting behind his lids. If Josh didn't want to talk, neither did I. Sitting up in the bed a little, leaning forward, I slid my hands up Josh's bulging arms to his shoulders while he kept holding my face, and, closing my eyes, I gave in as well, surrendering myself to Josh and whatever it was he wanted from me. Actually, I knew what he wanted, because I wanted it, too.
Pulling my head out of Josh's hands, I tilted his head back, and buried my face under his neck, kissing and sucking at it as he straddled me, sliding my mouth over his hot skin. I felt his neck vibrating, the power in his voice box as he groaned above me, his hands sliding over the back of my head, rubbing through the short hair. My shaved hair was growing back, but was still short enough that it gave me a charge when anyone touched it, and Josh was running his hands through it as he pressed my head against him. His neck was soft, but firm underneath, and slightly sweaty, a little salty under my tongue. Running my hands up the muscled expanse of his back, I grabbed the tops of his shoulders from behind, bending him backwards a little, causing his hard cock to press even more tightly against mine as I licked my way down his chest to his firm brownish nipple.
I ran my tongue in a circle around it, just lightly using the end like a feathery tickling finger, and then I tickled at the hard nub with it, rewarded with another loud moan above me. I closed my mouth in a tight circle around it, sucking hard, as I brought my hands down to his cotton clad ass, squeezing his firm cheeks tightly as I caught the point of his nipple with my teeth, nibbling and pulling at it. Josh's ass flexed as he danced on me, grinding his crotch into mine, and I felt sweat starting to break out on myself as well. We hadn't even barely done anything yet, and I was already as hot as hell. I'd wanted this for so long, exactly this, wanted to feel Josh twisting and writhing with pleasure beneath me, wanted him to be with me the way I dreamed of, the way that had been keeping me up at night.
I wanted Josh to want me as much as I wanted him, and now, suddenly, he did, and I wanted to reward him for it.
I slid my mouth across his chest, kissing and sucking at the muscles jumping beneath his skin, marveling in the idea that he was jumping because of me. Josh was moaning because of me, because of what I was doing to him, and I liked that as much as I liked doing it. Sex for me is about love, true, and it's also about the pleasure and the act itself, but I've always gotten off on power, too, on knowing what I was doing to the other person, and what I was could make them do. Sometimes that could be a bad thing, of course, like it had been with Lance. The fact that I had made him do those things had turned me on more than what he was actually doing. Luckily for Josh all I wanted for him to do was get off. I wanted him to enjoy this, and that was all. I cared about him too much to ever want anything else, to ever force him to do anything.
As much as I just wanted Josh to lay back and enjoy it, though, he had ideas of his own. Grabbing my head with both hands again, gripping painfully tightly at the sides of my face, he smashed his mouth down onto mine again and pushed me back down onto the bed, grinding me into the mattress. I slid my hands inside his boxer briefs, kneading his warm, smooth ass, as he grabbed the sheet and clawed it off of me. I looked up into his face, wanting to see what he would think when he saw me, what his expression would be when he looked down at my naked body and my hard, throbbing cock, hard for him, but his eyes were still closed. He continued to kiss me, all but choking me with his tongue, as both of his hands wrapped around my prick. I was a soft kisser, more of the peck and run type, but Josh's kisses were all tongue, as if he had to penetrate you however he could.
One of his hands tugged at my balls, rolling them around in my sack, squeezing them. He tugged at the short blond hairs on them, pinching them with his fingers, something no one had ever done to me before. It was almost painful, almost, but mostly it was just hot combined with the feeling of his other hand sliding up and down my shaft. He pulled his mouth off of mine, and then began to slide down my chest. My hands lost their grip on his ass as he slid away from me, trailing over his sweaty back to catch in his hair, twining and gripping. Unlike the slow, suckling trip I'd taken, though, Josh wasn't interested in taking his time. This boy wanted it, and he wanted it bad, dragging his mouth right down the middle of my torso, following the line down my chest and abs. He ran his tongue around my navel, dipping it in for a second, and then he was at the head of my cock.
My fingers tugged at his hair as I felt his mouth sliding down over me. Josh's tongue washed over my cock, and he pressed it into the opening of my slit, jabbing and tickling at it as I twisted beneath him. He started using the tip of his tongue to massage the sensitive spot just below my slit, where the head met the shaft, as he lightly sucked my entire head into his mouth, moaning and humming around it. Without warning he suddenly sucked the whole thing into his mouth, pulling my cock all the way into his throat. My head swam, the room spun, and suddenly I couldn't breath as my hands pressed down on him, holding his head in place as I let out a little scream and shot into his throat. Normally I last a lot longer, but this was all so sudden, and Josh had me so turned on, that I had lost all restraint.
I watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed, and then he was sliding back up my body. He lapped at my cock for a minute, getting it nice and clean, while I whimpered and tried to pull him away, too sensitive now to last for very long. He washed over my abs, tracing their outlines with his tongue, pressing his mouth to them, and then traced up the curves of my pecs, nipping at them before folding his mouth over my nipples. He spent forever on them, what seemed an eternity, as he sucked and nibbled at them, rolling one between his fingertips as he mouthed one, and then switching. For someone who hadn't had much experience before Jack, Josh sure had been trained well. Then again, like I said before, Josh was good at everything he put his mind to, or, in this case, his mouth. He finally chewed his way up my neck, over my chin, and brought his mouth to mine again. Somehow through all of that kissing and sucking he had still managed to hold a little cum in his mouth, and it dripped into mine as his tongue dipped down again.
I wanted this, needed this for so long, and now that it was here I wanted Josh to feel as good as I did.
Grabbing his shoulders, I rolled him over, pressing him into the mattress, and I lay on top of him, pressing my entire body to his. I felt his chest flexing beneath me as our tongues continued dueling in each other's mouths, felt my cock poking at his balls through the cotton of his boxer briefs, which really had to go. Dragging my mouth down its earlier path, I sucked and bit at his neck again, and then attacked his nipples for the second time. His chest was sweaty now, hot and warm, and tasted salty as I dragged my tongue over it. I was lost in the taste, in the feeling of his skin, of his breathing beneath me, and I wondered if my brain might be going into some sort of sensory overload, or if maybe I was a lot drunker than I thought I was. Josh certainly seemed to be, but it wasn't slowing him down any as he bucked and twisted and pressed my head to his chest. He still hadn't spoken, not once, and when I looked up at him, I had yet to see his eyes open. Maybe tonight he just wanted to feel, and that was all. If it was, that's what I would give him.
I hooked my thumbs into the waist of his boxer briefs and tugged them down, fighting them over the stiff rod of his erection. His cockhead caught in the band, and when I finally got it past them it sprang out, smacking into his stomach loudly. I trailed my tongue through the little line of dark hairs below his bellybutton, and then skipped his cock entirely and began to lap at his sweaty, full balls. I pushed them around with my tongue, sucking one and then the other into my mouth. He groaned loudly as I pulled them both in at once, chewing lightly at them, but not really biting. They are, after all, balls, and guys have rules about what you should and should not do with that part of us. Letting them slide wetly from my stretched, spitty lips, I kissed my way up Josh's cock. I didn't really have a lot of experience with this, having only gone down on Jack that one time, and never done anything else to a guy, but I knew what I liked, and figured that he'd like it, too.
My guess must have been right, because before long he was yelping, panting, and shooting into my mouth. It was warm and salty, thicker than I thought it would be, but I swallowed it all, because it was Josh. Josh was here, and he was mine. I slid back up his panting chest, watching his pecs rise and fall as he struggled to catch his breath again, and I kissed him, softly, one of my kisses, before cuddling against him, laying my head on a pillow. He turned away from me, started to slide out of the bed, but I put my hand on his shoulder, wanting to keep him close, and he slid back against me, pressing himself close, nuzzling in, as I folded myself around him. I grabbed the sheet and pulled it up over us, tucking it around us both, and we fell asleep with his back to my front and his body cradled in my arms.
I woke up before Josh, not surprising considering how much he'd had to drink last night. We'd separated in the night, drifting to opposite sides of the bed, and I rolled onto my side to watch him as he slept, propping myself up on my elbow. Sunlight peeked around the edges of my heavy curtain, turning his hair to a warm golden brown transparency where it fell, making his tanned skin even more honey gold. The sheet had slid down, toward his waist, leaving the top of his chest exposed as well, and I let my eyes crawl over his pecs, staring at the way they curved up into his shoulders, winged to the sides to meet his arms. His neck was corded below the exquisitely handsome lines of his face, and I felt a surge of feelings as I remembered last night, and thought about how nice it was, how complete it felt to wake up next to him. I realized then that it was real, and it was serious. Sometime over the past few weeks I had stopped loving Josh, and had fallen in love with him. Everything changed at that moment, and then it changed again.
Josh opened his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes, and blinked sleepily at me.
"Justin?" he asked, surprised. Who was he expecting to find next to him? "What are you doing?"
"Watching you sleep," I answered, smiling.
Josh sat up, looking around, and then looked down at himself as I stayed where I was, grinning when he lifted up the sheet a little and saw that he was naked.
"Justin, how did I get in here?" he asked, turning toward me.
"Huh?" I asked, confused.
"Did I come in here last night?" he asked, sliding away from me, clutching the sheet to himself. He didn't sound upset, just a little baffled, and I tried to figure out what was going on. "Where are my shorts?"
"On the floor somewhere," I answered, suddenly fearing the worst. "Josh, you came in here last night, after I went to bed."
"Oh, Justin, oh my God, I'm so sorry," he said quickly, standing. He grabbed the sheet, covering himself, which pulled it off of me. I giggled as he quickly blushed and looked away. The spreading redness flushed over his chest, too.
"Josh, we don't have anything the other one hasn't seen before," I said, staring at him, trying to keep it light as I felt my heart fluttering. This couldn't be what I was afraid was happening, was it?
"Justin, I'm so, so sorry," he stammered again, fishing his boxer briefs off the floor and turning away from me to pull them on. He tossed the sheet back to me, and I pulled it up, not wanting him to be embarrassed.
"Josh, you don't remember coming in here?" I asked. "You don't remember anything?"
"No, no I don't," he answered, looking away. I could tell he was lying, but his face begged me not to question it. He wouldn't look me in the eyes, and I wondered if he felt guilty. Should I confront him on it? "I must have been a lot drunker than I thought. Justin, I didn't, um, I didn't bother you, did I?"
"No, Josh," I answered quietly, turning away. "I'm always here if you need me, Josh, to talk to or whatever. It's not a bother."
He continued to stare at his hands, not looking at me.
"I'm gonna go get in the shower," he said finally, walking toward the door.
"Yeah, I should, too," I said, sliding out of bed.
In the shower I sat down on the floor, letting the water beat down on me, as I tried to sort this out. Josh had come to me, had kissed me, had climbed into my bed, but now he said he didn't remember any of it. I could tell that he was lying, had known him too long not to recognize when he wasn't telling the truth, but why? Did he feel guilty? Was he ashamed? Did he think he had forced me to do something, that I didn't want him that way? I thought I had made myself clear when we were drinking last night. Even if I was drunk, and hadn't meant to say all that out loud, I had assumed that was why he had come to my room, why he had climbed into my bed and jammed his tongue into my mouth. Had he changed his mind? Or had I done something? What could I have done to make him come to me and then turn away so quickly?
And what about me? I knew that I loved Josh now, loved him that way, but I wasn't quite like him. I was bi, and I wasn't just saying that in a self-denial way, either. I still liked girls. Hell, I still liked Britney, when you got right down to it, but right now I just wanted to focus on Josh. How long would that last, though? Did I love Josh in a permanent way? Josh was the monogamous type, but I had never been in a monogamous relationship. Was I even capable of that? Did I want to be? Could I limit myself to one person, and one sex? For Josh I'd be willing to try.
Josh and I kind of avoided each other for the rest of the day. You might think that two people, being the only two people at home, would have problems not seeing each other, but we managed just fine. A couple times I heard a door losing as I opened one, or heard him walking around above or below me, depending on where I was. I went out to the garage, and heard the patio door closing as I walked back in. I went to the basement, and heard Josh walking up the stairs to the second floor. I felt almost like we were playing a game, some weird sort of cat and mouse hide and seek sort of thing, but why? Was Josh still thinking about last night? Did he feel guilty? Did he feel anything? Did he really not remember what had happened? And why was he running away from me? It wasn't just Josh running, though. I was avoiding him, too, because I was hurt. I had thought we'd crossed a bridge last night. What had happened meant something to me, and it hurt me to think that Josh might not feel the same way.
As dinner time approached, I decided I was tired of playing games, and tired of reorganizing the shelves in the basement, too, which I'd been working on for a couple of hours, so I ordered Chinese, figuring I could lure Josh to the table with his favorite foods. It worked. He sat across from me, his eyes mostly on his plate, pretending nothing was wrong. I let him get about halfway through dinner before I decided I couldn't wait anymore.
"Josh, we need to talk," I said, waiting to see what his reaction would be. He set his chopsticks down carefully as I mirrored his actions, dropping my fork onto my napkin. "We need to talk about last night."
"I know," Josh sighed, still staring at his plate. He looked up at me, his eyes wide and blue as the sky, and I felt myself losing focus, felt myself falling into them. Yeah, I had it bad. "Justin, I'm so, so sorry about last night."
"What?" I asked, blinking. "Why are you sorry? Because you lied this morning?"
I didn't ask it in an accusatory tone, but he flinched a little anyway, as if I'd stung him. He looked up at me, grinning ruefully.
"I should have known you'd see through that, but I just couldn't think of anything else to do," he said, shrugging.
"But Josh, why did you lie?" I asked. "Did you feel bad?"
"Actually, yes," he said, looking surprised. "I woke up, and it all came rushing back to me, and I felt so bad that I didn't even want to talk about it. I just wanted to get away, to think. I'm sorry, Justin. I'm sorry I lied, and I'm sorry I took advantage of you."
"Um, Josh, I really don't think I'd say you took advantage of me," I said, grinning. I expected Josh to blush, but he didn't. What was going on here? "I'm a consenting adult, Josh. You didn't make me do anything I didn't want to."
"Justin, you don't understand," Josh began, reaching out for my hand. I took his, but cut him off before he could continue.
"No, Josh, I don't think you understand," I said. "I care about you, and I told you, I'm here for you, however you need me."
Here I was, throwing myself out before him. Why wasn't he taking me? Why wasn't he scooping me up in his arms?
"Justin," Josh began again, looking pained. He tried to pull his hand away, and I wouldn't let go. I loved him. Why couldn't he see that?
"I mean it, Josh," I said, trying to show him, trying to make him see.
"Justin, last night I pretended you were Jack."
I let go of his hand. It dropped to the table, and the world dropped out from under me again. Josh immediately began going on the defensive as I felt myself going cold inside.
"Justin, I never meant to hurt you, I didn't. You know I'd never do that, not on purpose. It's just that last night I was drunk, and I was thinking about what Carla said, and what you said, and I was thinking about Jack. And then I went in to talk to you, just to talk to you, and I saw you on the bed, and you looked so innocent, but so hot, and your eyes, I could tell that you'd do it, and I just, I stopped thinking," he said, but his words were all running together to me, all running into a blur.
I'd been with Josh last night, but he hadn't been with me. I stood stiffly and walked away from the table, no longer hungry, feeling the food churn in my stomach, wondering if I was about to throw it all up. Josh followed after me, his voice taking on a pleading tone, as I walked through the living room, not sure of where I was going.
"Justin, please, I'm so sorry," Josh began, wringing his hands. "You have to believe that Justin, you have to. I just wasn't thinking, wasn't thinking at all, and then when I woke up this morning and saw you, saw your face, I panicked. I pretended you were Jack last night, but somehow I believed it, too, and when I woke up I thought, just for a second, that it would be him, that this whole thing had been some kind of dream. And then I saw you, and I realized what I'd done, and I saw that you thought it was something else, and I couldn't tell you, Justin."
I stood in the middle of my entranceway, letting Josh's words fall on me like rain as he stood before me, his face twisted. He hadn't wanted me at all, not the way I wanted him. I had been honest with everyone, but lied to myself. All those times over the past two weeks that I'd reached out to him, all those moments when we'd been standing close, looking into each other's eyes, when I'd felt something surge up inside of me, I'd lied to myself. It had always been Josh who pulled away first, Josh who broke eye contact, but I hadn't let myself see it. I had fallen in love with Josh, but he was still in love with Jack.
"You used me," I said quietly, almost in awe.
"Oh, God, Justin, I'm so sorry," Josh began, starting to cry now as I stood numbly before him. "Justin, you don't know what it's meant to have you here for me through this, you don't know how much you mean to me, and I never meant to hurt you, never. Justin, you have to believe that! I wish I hadn't done it, I wish I knew how to make it up to you. Please Justin, just please believe how sorry I am."
"You used me," I said again, wrapping my mind around the concept, fitting the words together inside my head.
Josh had used me, and I had let him. Me, the master manipulator, the guy who always came out on top, who always got what I wanted. I had blinded myself, had allowed myself to be unselfish, to be led along by my own emotions, and this is what had happened. Josh had used me for his own ends, and sure, he might be sorry, but that didn't make it all better. That didn't take the pain away. Josh had used me, and I never let myself get used. I walked toward the door, spotting my car keys on the side table. Lance had dropped it off before he and Howie left for their trip, but of course I hadn't seen him, because I'd been too busy drinking away my feelings for Brit, who I'd lost because I wanted to be honest, because I'd wanted to be a good person.
"Justin, please, please don't walk away from me!" Josh said behind me. "Please, just say something, Justin."
I turned back to him, taking note of the anguished slope of his shoulders, the twisting of his hands, the furrow between his eyebrows, and the tears on his cheeks. Josh had hurt me, but he was hurting, too. I couldn't go to him, though, couldn't reach out to him, because I wouldn't know if he was hugging me, or if he was just using me to hug Jack.
"I'm going out," I said quietly. "Good night."
I closed the door behind me, not slowing down as I walked to the car. I needed to get out, needed to get away. I had all this anger inside, and this hurt, and pain. I loved Josh, had let myself fall in love with him, had let myself feel past the boundary we'd set. I'd crossed that line, but Josh hadn't crossed it with me. Instead he was hung up still on Jack, who had thrown him away. I was right here in front of him, with my love right there for him to just reach out and take, and he'd rather have the man who used him as a doormat, the man who'd thrown him away. I realized that I was just being cruel, that whatever Jack's reasons were for leaving must have been good, because it must have hurt him as much as it hurt Josh, but I pushed that thought away. I was getting really good at just deciding not to see things that were right in front of my face.
I needed to find something to take this pain away, needed to find some way to get past this, to not feel like this inside. I felt small. I felt like I always had all those years ago, when people hadn't respected me, hadn't cared about how I felt. I felt my heart wrenching, and I needed to let it out. And thinking that, thinking about the things I'd always done, I realized there was no point to changing. There was no point to becoming a better person, or feeling guilt, or being sorry for anything I'd done, because nice guys would always finish last, would always end up on the bottom, and I was nobody's bottom boy. I needed to find some to respect me, someone to worship me, someone to remind me that I was somebody. I needed to find someone and just use them, the way I'd been used, the way I turned to other people for comfort so many times before.
I drove to a club, not really caring which one, not really caring that I was dressed a little casual for clubbing. People here knew who I was, people here would know that I was somebody important, somebody special. People here would fall all over themselves for the chance to be the one I took home, for the chance to sleep with Justin Timberlake. People here would fight over me, would be willing to sell out their friends for me, and would let me do whatever I wanted to them. I gave my keys to the valet, letting him park my car, and waved at the people on either side of the velvet rope, smiling for the photographers, strolling into the club and feeling all those eyes on me.
I didn't drink much, because I wasn't here for that. Instead, I slid out into the middle of the crowd on the dance floor, sliding in between guys and their girlfriends, the force of my personality, my charm, my looks, pulling all of the eyes in the room toward me. I started dancing with the first girl I saw, pulling her against me, squashing her breasts to my chest as she grinned, letting her feel how hard I was just having someone completely abandon themselves to me, and knowing that she thought it was just for her when really it would have been for anyone. Another girl threw herself against my back, the two of them pressing tightly to me in a sandwich of writhing flesh, and I let her, reaching back to squeeze her ass with one of my hands while the other held the girl in front of me by the waist, holding her to my crotch as the three of us ground to the music.
I danced for hours with more people than I can remember, a string of girls who threw themselves at me as I willingly accepted their attention. A couple of times, when the crowd shifted, I found myself dancing face to face with a guy, but, like I said, I'm equal opportunity. I'll take fawning attention from anyone, and I pulled a couple of the guys against me, too, letting them feel my cock throbbing against them for a second before I cast them aside for the next partner, the next person to give me a little piece of themselves and help me feel whole.
Eventually I needed a drink, and a change of scene, so I found myself at the bar. People moved aside for me, cleared a chair for me, as they should. After all, I was somebody, and tonight I was somebody everyone wanted. I kept throwing off that vibe, too, kept letting people think they might actually stand a chance, and I felt myself feeding off of it, the attention, the hope. I was playing everyone in this room, and I was enjoying it. Fuck all of the stupid things my therapist said. This was the way the world really worked. Everyone was using everyone, everyone was out to get whatever they could for themselves, and as long as I ended up on top I didn't care what happened to the people underneath.
I was sucking slowly at a beer someone had bought for me, some girl who wrote her name and number on a napkin that I'd probably leave right there at the bar, when I heard a familiar voice next to me.
"So, this is life after Britney? Clubbing alone?"
I turned my head and found myself staring into the wide, slightly vacant blue eyes of Nick Carter. It wasn't too much of a surprise running into him at a place like this, since the club was hot and trendy, and we were all more or less based in the same area. We saw each other out a lot, and we'd been spending a little more time around the Boys on and off since Lance and Howie had gotten together, but Nick and I never really hung out. Maybe we realized we were actually the same guy, more or less, the spoiled prima donna youngest member of our respective groups. We were both the favorite, the heartthrob, and we didn't spend a lot of time around each other because we both knew it split the attention. At parties we avoided each other like the plague, usually keeping ourselves on opposite ends of the room, so I was a little surprised to see him right next to me.
"Nick," I said, tilting my beer at him.
"Justin," he answered, nodding at me. Nick was a little sweaty, his face a little flushed, and I realized he must have been dancing right near me the entire time, but I hadn't noticed. "How are you?"
"I'm good," I answered. It wasn't a total lie. I was feeling pretty good right now. "How are you?"
"Not feeling any pain," he answered, grinning.
He sipped his beer again, sliding his mouth over the end of the bottle for a second as he tilted his head back and swallowed, his blonde hair falling back off of his forehead. It was a move designed to call attention to him, designed to make your eye follow the lines of his face and neck, but you'd only know that if you knew all the moves yourself. Oh yeah, Nick and I were birds of a feather.
"Sorry about that Britney crack, by the way," he said. "I meant it as a joke."
"It's ok," I said, shrugging. "I'm over her."
He grinned, turning toward me. His shirt was hanging unbuttoned off of his shoulders, his undershirt clinging to his chest, stretched tightly by the twist of his body.
"So what brings you out tonight, Justin?" Nick asked, his eyes sparkling in the flashing lights.
"I don't know," I answered, wondering if this was going where I thought it was. "I guess I just wanted to look around, but I'm kind of bored tonight."
"Yeah, me too," Nick sighed, surveying the room. He turned back to me, grinning again. "Were you looking around for anything in particular, Justin?"
I grinned as well. Who, exactly, was playing with whom here?
"Just some fun," I answered, sipping my beer again, letting my mouth linger just a fraction of a second too long on the top of the bottle.
"You know, we never talk or hang out," Nick said. "I think that's really a shame. You want to go somewhere quieter?"
"Did you have somewhere in mind?" I asked, leaning back on the bar, letting my legs fall open a little.
"I was thinking about my place," Nick suggested, his tongue flicking out to lick his bottom lip.
"Why not?" I said, standing.
Nick practically fell off of his bar stool jumping up to join me. We chugged the rest of our beers, our eyes locked together. Chris had said once that Nick slept with everything, and it was more or less pretty true, at least as far as any of us knew. Nick was well known to be bi, at least in our circles, but I wasn't, so he probably thought he was about to make a score. Good. Let Nick think that. I was looking for someone to distract me, someone to worship me, someone to use to take my mind off of Josh.
Nick Carter?
He'd do.
I followed him out of the club.
To be continued.