Right for Me

Author's Note:

This isn't my first attempt at writing or posting to Nifty, but it's my first attempt at anything for the boy-band area. I have to admit it took me a long time to actually read any of the stories in this area. I made some assumptions about the genre that took a bit to get over. Once I did though, I couldn't stop. I think some of the best writing on Nifty is in this area, and so I finally decided to join the ranks of some of my favorite authors and post.

Any comments, encouragements, or suggestions would be appreciated. Please feel free to email me at brandonkies@yahoo.com I'm more than willing to accept criticism, but please no flames. I've gotten some wonderfully encouraging emails already. I think I've responded to everyone privately, but in case I missed you, thanks for taking the time to let me know what you think. I do appreciate it.

Disclaimer:

This story is pure fiction. I don't know any of the guys from `N Sync and my writings should in no way imply anything about their sexuality. Please do not post this story with out first receiving my permission.

Story Notes:

I guess I should have taken a moment or two more to edit chapter one. Dylan was 19 when Chad was born. This means he's 22 now, not 18.

Right for Me -- Chapter 4 _______________________

I heard them giggling a few seconds before they launched their sneak attack. It was familiar, routine, and I was happy that our move to Florida didn't seem to be affecting Chad negatively.

When I was home, each morning he would sneak into my bedroom, climb on the bed, and pounce, bouncing on me gleefully as he worked to wake me. I would have to retaliate, tickling him until he was screaming joyfully. Not a bad way to start a day, full of love and laughter. It seemed he'd brought help this morning.

"Shhhh," I heard Chad say as he and his accomplice entered my room. I assumed he'd managed to convince Jesse to help, so I burrowed down a bit deeper under the covers in anticipation.

Clutching the covers to me, I kept my breathing slow and even, pretending to still be asleep. I felt the bed dip as someone got in. As the giggling intensified, I felt fingers poking at me.

Whoever my tormentor this morning was he started pulling at the covers. I held tightly to them for another moment or two then relented, allowing them to be pulled off. Gauging it carefully, as the covers uncovered my head; I opened my eyes, roared furiously, and leaped to tickle my victim.

I'm not sure who yelled louder, Justin or me. I do know that he hit vocal registers that Mariah or Whitney would be proud of. And as he jumped away from me, his eyes obscenely wide with surprise, mine changed from shock to amusement as I saw him tumble off the side of the bed and land with a loud thump on the floor.

Jesse and Chad stood at the foot of the bed, watching our antics silently; it's amazing how children are able to cloak themselves in innocence when you know positively that they were involved intimately in whatever scheme has just gone awry. But there they stood our two innocent little lambs watching in open jawed amazement at the antics of the two silly `grown ups'.

Peeking over the side of the bed I saw Justin lying on the floor groaning softly. It started simple. A tiny smirk that I quickly contained, a giggle from Chad, but when Jesse began laughing with childlike abandon, all bets where off, and the room was soon full of laughter as the three of us collapsed in a boneless mass of merriment.

I don't think Justin enjoyed being the brunt of our laughter, but he was a good sport and suffered through it; for about two seconds. Then he retaliated.

Springing off the floor, Justin first chased the boys down and tossed them carefully on the bed, and then he leapt at us, screaming a furious Tarzan-esque like yell as he began tickling us. I'd like to say that we fought him off bravely, overpowered him with out superior numbers and left him an oozing ball of laughing goo. I'd like to say that, but it would be a lie. He destroyed us. His hands where everywhere. We never stood a chance.

We were a living Picasso; hands, arms, legs, and faces intertwined. Unable to tell where one person left off and another began. Yet, somehow, Justin was supremely careful with the children, aware exactly where they were in relation to the next person so that they were never hurt. It was impressive and uncanny. I attributed it to his dance skills; he was a master at bodies in motion.

"Would you like to introduce me, Justin?" A woman's voice I didn't recognize asked intruding on our game.

The four of us froze. Justin and I looked at each other, barely breathing, blinking in confusion, and then turned our heads toward the bedroom door to see who had spoken.

"Mom!" Justin yelled, leaping from the bed to hug the petite, short haired blonde that was standing in the doorway, "what are you doing here so early?"

"Honey, it's after eleven. I thought we were supposed to meet for lunch."

"Mom this is Dylan Carlton and his brother Chad, Dylan this is my mom, Lynn Harliss."

I began to get out of bed to shake her hand when I realized I was sitting in front of her in my underwear. It might not have been so bad if I'd been wearing boxers, but I wasn't. I had on a pair of bikini briefs, and the realization of what I was wearing sent the blood rushing to my head.

Blushing furiously, I grabbed Chad and Jesse sitting them on my lap, using them as human shields as I stuttered my greeting. Justin looked at me curiously, wondering I suppose at my sudden modesty. I figured as an entertainer he'd long since lost any sense of decorum he might have had, but I didn't have his background, and walking around in front of your friend's mother in a pair of bikini briefs was simply beyond my comfort zone.

Lynn seemed to understand my embarrassment instantly, "Justin, let's head down to the kitchen and give Dylan a chance to get dressed. I know you want us to get to know each other, but it can wait a moment or two, at least until he has some pants on."

Laughing delightedly, she turned and headed back down the hall. I glared at Justin for a moment, determined somehow to blame him for my humiliation.

He smiled at me shyly. It was completely engaging, totally disarming, and left me completely breathless.

He was just too damn good looking for my peace of mind, and I was going to have to become immune to his shy smile and his stunning looks, or he was going to be able to walk over me effortlessly.

"I think she likes you," he said as headed out of the bedroom. Turning back, he smiled at me mischievously, "Although she may just like your butt."

He managed to duck out of the room before the pillow I'd snatched up and flung at him went flying across the room. Peeking his head back around the corner, he motioned for Jesse and Chad to follow him, "Come on guys, let's let Dylan put some pants on, he's flashed enough people for one day."

I glared at him in disbelief until I saw the boys scamper down and follow him. My glare grew to encompass all of them. The little traitors!

Mumbling to myself about exactly what I'd like to do to a certain boy-band member, I grabbed my robe, searched the wardrobe hastily to find something to wear for the day, and headed to the restroom to shower quickly before I headed downstairs.

As I relaxed in the shower, the warm water cascading down my body, my thoughts returned to my epiphany of last night.

I couldn't be falling in love with Justin.

I'd just met him.

I was confused.

He was amazing to look at, kind, and our life experiences seemed to parallel each other.

But it wasn't love.

I was just projecting.

It couldn't be love.

It took a bit, but I was finally able to convince myself.

I felt much better by the time I stepped out of the shower, even able to laugh at myself and the situation I'd found myself in earlier. After all, how many people would be able to say they met Justin Timberlake's mother when he was in bed with you and you were almost naked.

Dressing quickly, I ran a comb through my hair, tied my sneakers, and ran downstairs. I heard voices as I got closer to the kitchen. Plastering a smile on my face, I took a deep breath, and entered the room.

"Morning everyone," I said brightly.

"I gave Helen the morning off, since we're having the bar-b-cue this afternoon, so we're going to have to scrounge up something for lunch ourselves," Justin said as he began opening and closing cupboard doors.

"I can't understand why I slept so late," I apologized moving to help. "Little man normally wakes me up at the crack of dawn."

"He wanted to this morning. But I managed to head him off at the pass. Figured after driving, unpacking, and swimming yesterday, you wouldn't mind the chance to sleep in."

Opening the refrigerator, I grabbed the pot roast we'd had for dinner the night before and a couple of red bell peppers. Once I'd located the olive oil, onions, and garlic, I decided I could toss together a reasonably nutritious meal quickly. "Thanks, I haven't been sleeping well lately, and I do feel better from the extra rest."

"Justin," I said motioning for him to move out of the prep area in the kitchen, "why don't you get your mother something to drink, and I'll make lunch."

Grabbing a crusty French baguette, I deftly cut it into slices, coated it with olive oil and rubbed garlic cloves on it. Lying it aside to soak up the oil, I turned a couple of burners to the stove on, placed a nice iron skillet on one to heat up the roast, and skewering the red bell peppers on a fork, roasted them over the flame of the other.

Justin had some wonderful swiss and provolone cheese, so once I melted that over the heated meat and sliced an onion to grill; it took no time to put together steak sandwiches for everyone.

I made the boys a grill cheese sandwich, grabbed some fruit for a quick salad, and began placing everything on the kitchen table. Justin and his mother had been chatting while I'd been working, but it'd been mostly background noise for me.

"They aren't going to wait forever, Justin. You have a contract to deliver, how much longer before you're finished?"

"Joe thinks we should be finished in a week or two."

"What do you think?"

"It's hard to say. This album won't be like anything I've ever done. Joe say's it is cutting edge, dynamic. He's convinced it will shatter the `pop artist' stereotype I've been stuck with."

"I really don't understand what this fascination with Joe is, why you're staking your career on this guy. You've listened to the tracks haven't you? What do you think?"

Avoiding Lynn's eyes, Justin muttered, "I've heard a few samples."

"Christ! You haven't listened to the tracks?"

"Justin what the hell's going on? You wanted to start your own label. You wanted complete artistic control.

You wanted to build and record in your own studio. The guys backed you, supported you emotionally and financially. I hope you're not betraying that support."

I was setting up the boys' booster seats, trying desperately to be as inauspicious as possible. I'd come in, in the middle of the conversation, but from what little I'd picked up, I knew it would have been less awkward if I wasn't there.

Justin sighed, rubbing his eyes with the back of both hands; he seemed to be counting to ten mentally. "Mom, can we talk about this later? I'm sure Dylan doesn't want to listen to us argue his first day here."

It was slick, playing on his mothers southern sensibilities, and it was effective. Patting my hand, she said, "I'm sorry dear, Justin's right. We can wait until your second day before we embroil you in family squabbles."

Her smile was infectious, and I returned it automatically. But I did take the opportunity to change the subject, "Justin tells me you have to leave town today?"

I had to hide my smile behind my hand when I saw the relief that crossed Justin's face as I redirected the conversation. I did manage to give him a quick wink of support surreptitiously.

"Business unfortunately, but I am planning on visiting our place in Tennessee when I'm finished."

"Is the place in Tennessee `home'?"

"Yes. It isn't where Justin grew up. But it's where our roots are. We have friends and relatives there that have known us forever. It keeps me grounded, and I always feel revitalized after going back."

"Do you spend much time there?"

"Not nearly enough, a couple months a year, I guess."

"Have you been to Florida before?" She asked me.

"A couple of times. We used to visit Disney at least once a year. It's been awhile since the last time."

"Has Chad been?"

"No, not yet. The restaurant has been doing phenomenally well the last few years, and Dad and Pam thought it would be better to wait until Chad was a bit older and would actually enjoy the experience before taking him."

"Your father started the restaurant?"

"My grandfather actually. He and grandmother emigrated here from Sweden. His family ran a bakery there. Carlton's was originally modeled on that bakery. But it evolved over the years, until it became an upscale restaurant."

"You father was the eldest son?"

"Yes, an only child actually. We've never been a large family, usually only one or two children born each generation. It helped to make us closer I think, but lonelier. There isn't the huge support system to draw from that large families have."

"Your mother's family?"

"Mom's parents died not long before she married my dad, killed by a drunk driver during the Thanksgiving holiday. It always made the holidays bittersweet at our house. Mom was wonderful about making those times magical for Dad and I, but there was always this sadness there in the background. It was never any one thing you could identify, but it existed."

"No brothers or sisters?"

"No, she was an only child too. I think that's part of what attracted Dad to Pam. She had this large family that you could lose yourself in."

"Was that hard for you?"

"What? Dad and Pam getting married?"

"Yes."

"Maybe at first, Mom's death was hard for me. I didn't handle it very well. I was angry at everyone for the longest time. I gradually retreated from everyone, spending my time on my music, unable to let go of my grief."

"I don't know how Pam was able to break through the walls I'd created. But she managed to get me focused on art, to express visually the emotions I was internalizing. She was the one that discovered that I could express music and emotion with oils."

"More importantly, she got me to look at the world around me, to see that life went on, that I could too.

And do it without being unfaithful to the memory of my mother."

"I'm not sure who was more excited after they discovered they were expecting Chad, me or them. But it was the turning point, and shattered whatever walls that still existed."

"It was the cause of our biggest battle too."

"I didn't want to train in New York. I'd already lived there for a few years while attending school; and I wanted to be in Chicago so I could spend time with them and Chad. But they'd convinced me to give it a shot, refusing to let me slack. It was a great experience, and I learned a lot, but I still think it was a mistake."

"I guess hindsight really is 20/20; I wish I'd spent these last few years at home. If I'd known how little time they had left, I would have."

Patting my hand, Lynn waited patiently for me to get my emotions under control. "I'm sorry dear; I didn't mean to bring up painful memories."

Wiping my eyes to clear the tears, I gave her a watery smile, "You didn't. They were wonderful memories. Thank you. Things have been so strange lately that it's been hard to find the time to remember what loving wonderful people they were."

She smiled at me in understanding, "Lunch is terrific, dear. Did you learn to cook at the restaurant?"

"Some. But I really became interested in it because it was something Dad and I could share. For years, you could find the two of us in the kitchen at home or in the restaurant on weekends experimenting with different recipes."

"I don't think he was like other fathers. He loved his job, but didn't try to keep it separate. He treated it like a person at times, I guess. And he wanted the people in his life to love each other. He was a marvelous teacher and guide. Encouraging me to care for and see the restaurant as he did.

He shared his responsibilities and taught us the work and value involved for running a successful business. He was able to nourish my interest in cooking, while teaching me the monotonous but necessary skills that went with the job."

"What about a social life? Wasn't there a special girl?"

I looked at Justin unsure how to answer the question. I wasn't comfortable lying about who I was. I knew Justin had no problem with my sexuality, but I wasn't sure how Lynn would react. I decided to skirt the issue until I could discuss it with him.

"Mom, Dylan's gay," Justin said before I could answer.

I held my breath waiting for her reaction, but I was completely unprepared for what she said. Eyes twinkling merrily she joked, "I guess that explains why I found Justin in bed with you this morning?"

I'm not sure who blushed redder, Justin or I. He shrugged helplessly as Lynn began laughing at our reaction.

I decided to play along; I still owed him for that cute butt remark. "He did say I would fall at his feet within five minutes of meeting him, but you'll notice he got in my bed. I guess he got tired of waiting."

His eyes promised serious retribution. I knew he would get even, but hearing his mother laugh even louder made it worth it at that moment.

"I think that's my cue to leave boys."

"Dylan it was wonderful meeting you, you're more than welcome to come cook for me anytime, dear."

"Thanks, Lynn. It was great meeting you."

She gathered her dirty dishes and placed them on the sink before turning to Justin and Jesse. Kissing Jesse, she motioned for Justin to follow her out to her car.

It didn't take me long to tidy up. Once I was satisfied with the kitchen's cleanliness, I turned my attention to the boys. They had been following my movements, waiting patiently as I stowed leftovers and washed dishes, and I decided they deserved a reward.

Grabbing a couple of cookies I'd noticed on a shelf, I handed each of them one and helped them out of their booster seats.

"So what should we do now guys?" I asked, not expecting an answer.

"I was going to show you the rest of the property today," Justin said as he walked back into the kitchen, causing me to jump with startlement, "but Joe just rang my cell phone. He wants me to work for an hour or so this afternoon. Wanna come check out a recording session?"

"I'd love too, but Jesse and Chad would be bored out of their minds. Maybe it would be better if I stayed here. I'll keep them entertained until you're free."

"You can if you want, but we have day care facilities in the studio. They can play in there while I'm recording."

I wasn't sure I wanted to meet Joe. Lynn seemed to have concerns with him, and if Justin was behind on his album he probably didn't need any distractions.

"Come on, Dylan," he said his bottom lip pouting provocatively, "I'll make it worth your while," he finished seductively.