*****

JC enjoys candles as much as the next guy, but if he has to listen to Justin rhapsodize about the vanilla-scented ones he scattered all around his bedroom, and how romantic Britney thought it was, and how hot it made her, and how when she licked-okay, no, he’s not picturing that. But if he has to listen to it for one more second, he’s not going to be responsible for his actions. No jury in the world will convict him if he tosses Justin off the bus, of that he’s certain. It may smack of premeditation if he waits until the bus is up to full speed, but he’s willing to risk the added jail time.

Plus, he has Chris to back him up. Chris, whose expression is getting darker by the minute. “I’m glad you’re getting laid, Timberlake, but please shut the fuck up.”

Justin’s momentum only slows for a minute, then he switches gears and scowls at Chris. “You’re just jealous, you ass. You’re practically glowing in the dark, you’re so green.”

Chris blinks incredulously at Justin, then bursts out laughing. A look of hurt flashes across Justin’s face, and JC starts to feel bad. Justin may be annoying, but there’s no reason to make him feel stupid about being in love. Just about the damn candles.

Then JC looks more closely at Chris. There’s more than mere irritation at work here. He thinks Justin may be right. Chris is jealous. JC wonders who he’s most jealous of, Justin or Britney.

*****

Later, after Justin has been placated with assurances that his love affair-for-the-ages is as wonderful as he thinks it is, Chris rolling his eyes and snorting the whole time that JC worked at soothing ruffled teenager-in-love feathers, JC follows them wearily to bed. He smacks Chris’s ass before he climbs into the bunk behind him.

“Thanks a lot. Why did you have to do that?” He waits, curious for the answer, wondering if Chris will tell him the truth, if Chris will admit the truth, to JC or to himself.

Chris shrugs and leans back against JC’s chest. “I don’t know,” he mumbles.

“Yes, you do,” JC replies evenly. No answer. JC waits a minute, then says, “It’s hot to think about, isn’t it?”

“What is?” Chris asks, and it’s almost too low for JC to hear.

“Justin and Britney,” JC says simply. He waits for Chris to laugh, or deny it, something. Chris doesn’t say a word, but JC can feel his muscles tense as JC runs a hand up and down his arm. The motion is soothing, at odds with JC’s next words. “They’re both so pretty, and I’ll bet Brit’s skin is really soft. You know how good she smells, she wears that perfume J likes to buy her.” He pauses, waiting for Chris to tell him he’s wrong, to laugh at him for being such a freak. Chris doesn’t say anything, though, and he shivers in JC’s arms. JC smiles against the slightly sweaty skin of his neck.

“I wonder what she tastes like? I’ll bet she’s sweet when she’s wet. When she’s wet for J,” JC whispers into Chris’s shoulder. Chris stops breathing for an instant, then he gasps quietly. “And Justin, he’s all golden, you know what he looks like, think about his shoulders, the muscles working, what they must look like when he’s got his head between her legs, licking her pussy, tasting her. I’ll bet she makes sweet little noises, too, and when she says his name, she can’t say it without moaning just a little.”

JC’s turning himself on as much as he is Chris, and he feels his cock swell, hard against Chris’s ass. He palms the curve of Chris’s hip, then slides his hand around, Chris’s stomach fluttering beneath his fingers. He rocks very gently into Chris, and feels him push back.

“And you know Justin, he won’t stop until she comes, and then maybe she’ll suck him for a while, before he fucks her. His cock, hard for her, can you just see it, her lips wet, stretched around it, and his eyes are closed, he’s feeling it, concentrating, and she’s licking around the head of his dick-“ he breaks off as Chris tries to choke back a moan, and he reaches up and rubs his fingers over Chris’s nipples, back and forth, pulling on them just a little.

“Then Brit’s on her back, or maybe she even gets on her hands and knees, and Justin’s fucking her, and maybe she likes it hard, hard and fast, or maybe she likes it slow and sweet. What do you think?” As he talks, JC works his hand into Chris’s boxers, taking hold of Chris’s erection, and he’s so hard, straining against JC’s hand, trying to thrust, to get some friction. JC jacks him slowly and Chris grits out, “JC,” between his clenched teeth.

JC tightens his grip around Chris’s shoulders with the arm he’s laying on, and lets go of Chris’s cock. Chris makes a noise of protest, almost a whimper, but then JC pushes Chris’s boxers down past his ass, reaching for the lube that’s always stashed on the narrow shelf over Chris’s bunk. Chris wiggles impatiently. As he pushes inside, he says, “You know what J sounds like when he comes, you’ve heard him, I know you have. You want him to make those sounds for you, don’t you, Chris, man, I’m thinking he’d give it up so sweet for you, you know he would.” JC’s close to losing it already, and he has his hand back on Chris’s dick, and Chris is close, too, JC can tell.

He breathes his trump card into Chris’s ear. “And they’re so young, aren’t they, Chris, so young and pretty and sweet,” and Chris goes rigid and he shoots all over JC’s hand and JC comes so hard he has to bite down on Chris’s shoulder so he doesn’t yell and wake Justin up.

They lay there breathing together, and JC tries to get Chris to roll over, but he won’t, he keeps himself facing away from JC. Now, after, JC thinks he may have made a mistake. Oh, not about what Chris wanted, but maybe he shouldn’t have taken it so far. He hopes Chris isn’t too fucked up about it, but you never know with Chris.

And then he hears a rustling noise from Justin’s bunk, and a sigh.

“You assholes are such freaks.” JC holds his breath and Chris doesn’t move. “Oh, and I forgot to say, before. Brit wants to know if you guys know what a daisy chain is.”

JC’s breath huffs out in a laugh and Chris relaxes, turning over and rolling his eyes at JC. “Timberlake, I swear to God…”

*****

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