“Mmph… hey.”

“You awake?”

“Kinda. Just dozed off for a bit. What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“I miss you.”

“You’re such a girl.”

JC persisted. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” JC could hear the smile in Justin’s voice.

“When are you coming home?”

“Home? Jayce, I just bought a home.”

“But it’s not in Florida.”

A pause filled the miles of static that connected them. JC could hear Justin breathing softly on the other end of the phone line and tried not to be turned on by it. Finally, Justin murmured, “No, it’s not.”

“Why are you moving over there then?”

“It’s… it’s just easier this way, Jayce. You know that.”

“Yeah.” JC tried not to sigh and didn’t succeed.

“You’ve got a room here,” said Justin. Even over the phone, JC could tell Justin was putting on his cajoling face, the one he used to wheedle his way into JC’s good humor. “I decorated it, thinking about you.”

JC let himself laugh a little. “Now who’s being the girl?”

“You don’t even need to ask. Oh, shit. I’ve gotta go.”

“That’s what you always say.” JC fought against the sudden tightness in his throat.

Justin’s voice held as much sorrow as was possible, considering how quickly the next few sentences tumbled out of his mouth. “I’m so sorry. I’ve just… I’ve gotta go. Love you.”

“Love you too.” The reply was automatic now, more than anything.

“You don’t mind me moving out here, do you, Jayce?” Justin asked suddenly.

“No, no, not all.” JC wished that those words were true.

The voice on the other end sounded a little relieved. “Oh good,” said Justin. He abruptly added, “Damn. I’ll call you later.”

JC hung up the phone and lay back on his bed. He stared up at the ceiling with eyes that glittered like frozen rain.

* * *

In the supermarket, JC was debating whether or not to get those frozen veggie burgers. He wasn’t really interested in becoming a vegetarian, even though he had considered the idea before, but veggie burgers tasted better to him than real meat ones. JC stood in front of the freezer, propping the glass door open with his back and shivering in the chilly air that blasted from within. He finally just grabbed a box when he heard a young female voice squeal.

“Oh my God!”

Wincing to himself, JC kept his back turned. He tugged his white hat down lower, until the thing practically blocked his vision completely. Now that he had grown out his hair, somehow he had become that much easier to spot. That’s why he was wearing the hat. Plus, he thought the hat was cool. Apparently though, it wasn’t much of a disguise.

“Are you… you’re not…” A voice was coming from somewhere behind him.

Tossing the frozen veggie burgers into his hand basket, JC turned around and let the freezer door close. He smiled at the brown-haired girl who stood before him. She actually looked to be about his own age, which surprised JC at first, because her voice sounded like a preteen’s. She had her hair swept up in a high ponytail and her own hand basket was filled with SlimFast cans.

Upon seeing JC turn around, she stared and squealed again. “You are, aren’t you?” Amazing thing -- she looked to be in her mid-twenties but she sounded twelve.

“Guilty,” said JC. He managed an embarrassed shrug and smile. There was no point in hiding the fact anymore.

The girl sounded shocked. “Oh wow. Oh God, wow. I mean, I know I live in Orlando but I’ve just never run into any of you guys before,” she said. She paused and added, “I love your music.”

“Thanks.” JC wondered if he could manage to edge away from her without making it obvious as to what he was doing. He didn’t want to be rude… but honestly, he was grocery shopping. Couldn’t he just sign an autograph and go?

Her next question caught JC completely off guard though. “Have you seen any of the guys lately?”

That hit a little too close to home. JC forced a smile and said, “What do you mean?”

“Seems like, you know, all of you guys are going off in different directions. I mean, that’s what I hear from the news. Justin, Lance and even Joey.” The girl nodded sympathetically, adding, “You prolly don’t get to see each other much now.”

JC could feel his smile freezing on his face as rehearsed answer slipped from his mouth. “Not much. But I support the guys, you know. It’s good to expand our horizons a bit.” He felt like a fucking parrot, rattling off words he taught himself to say.

The girl didn’t seem to notice though. She swung her basket in her hand, idly, intent on her conversation. “And, wow, with Justin. His solo thing must be pretty intense. Was his break-up with Britney bad?”

“I don’t think it’s my place to talk about that,” said JC. He didn’t even know if he was smiling anymore. His throat felt tight and he wanted to wring the girl’s head off. Why did they keep asking him that? Why? It’s not like he could have told them the truth: No, actually. The Britney thing was just a press ploy because I’ve been fucking Justin for three years now. But that doesn’t really matter at all. Not even to Justin. He wanted to punch something, hard. But Justin wasn’t here. Instead, JC grated out, “I’ve gotta go.”

He was already walking as quickly as he could down the aisle when the girl called after him, “Nice talking to you.”

JC didn’t respond, choking on the tightness in his throat.

* * *

“It’s really great to be able to do what I’m doing now,” said Justin. “I’m just so glad all the guys support me in this, otherwise I wouldn’t have the courage to do it, really.”

JC tossed the remote idly in his hands. He watched the television with a sort of abstract blankness. He had been flipping channels and somehow just happened to run across this Access Hollywood interview. JC knew it wasn’t a rerun because those kinds of entertainment news shows rarely did reruns.

In all honesty, JC wasn’t really listening to Justin talk. He was just looking at Justin. JC hadn’t seen him in such a long time, if you excluded teenybopper magazine covers. Justin had grown out his hair a little bit more now. JC could tell, even if Justin tried to hide the baby curls under a hat. He looked tan and strong. The fabric of his t-shirt moved and stretched along his muscles as he smiled and laughed with the interviewer.

JC missed hearing that laugh in person.

Justin had so many types of laughs. Even if you knew him semi-well, you’d never hear all of them. There were too many to name and JC felt like he had experienced every one of them. It was like experiencing Justin.

Like now, he was doing that soft chuckle he did whenever there were cameras on and when he had to be nice even though he didn’t want to be. It was the laugh Justin used to be polite, whenever he felt obligated to laugh even when the joke isn’t funny.

Sometimes he’d have the bitter, cynical laugh that was actually very depressing for JC to hear. It was a dry chuckle that Justin forced out when something was too painful or terrible for him to talk about. He’d try to laugh it off but he never fooled anyone.

Then there was that full out belly laugh that Justin had too. He would throw his head back, laughing like a dork and clapping his hands as if he had heard the funniest thing in the entire world. It erased the worry lines from his face and made him look like he was ten years old again. JC loved that laugh, which seemed to come too seldom now.

So many laughs. One for every mood Justin had, and probably more.

And then… there was that intimate smile and slow chuckle, which was like a caress. No one else had ever heard that laugh, JC’d bet. Mostly because Justin only made that noise in bed, when he was turned on and when he wanted to seduce something out of you. It never failed. The laugh was like he had a secret hidden behind his back and he knew you were going to like it very, very much.

It wasn’t until JC found his hand unzipping his own pants that he realized he was hard. How did that happen? JC was practically aching, throbbing. His palms itched and his hands moved on their own accord, regardless of JC’s half-hearted mental protests.

Arching into his hand, JC panted and gasped. His hand moved faster, until it was just a blur. JC groaned, wanting and needing something… something he couldn’t have right now.

Onscreen, Justin smiled.

JC came in a rush. It was the dirtiest, fastest, and guiltiest orgasm he had ever experienced.

For a moment, JC just lay there and started at the ceiling. He groaned out of a combination of guilt, anger, and post-orgasm haze. He felt like he had felt when he was twelve, after his first jerk-off to a picture of Mariah Carey.

Somehow, this was even more pathetic.

JC wanted to cut his hand off.

Justin was gone and now commercials were playing. Mandy Moore was grinning at JC from the screen and talking about some beauty product.

Burying his head in a pillow, JC yelled into it until his voice went hoarse.

* * *

“Talk to me.”

“Hey.” JC coughed, clearing his throat. It still felt a little scratchy.

“Oh… hey.”

“I thought you said you were going to call.” JC wasn’t going to get mad. He wasn’t going to get mad.

“I… oh, shit. I’m sorry, Jayce. It’s just… things have been kinda hectic lately and… God. You know what I mean.”

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t though. It was not okay. JC paced the length of his living room, trying to force a smile on his face because Justin could always hear the frown in JC’s voice, even over the phone. Not mad. Calm.

“You don’t sound okay.” Damn that Timberlake and his good hearing.

“Nice of you to notice for once,” said JC, finally letting all the anger and bitterness wash over him. It was a good feeling. Like surrendering to a tidal wave of power.

Justin’s eyes were probably narrowing at this very moment. JC could tell, even across countless of miles of distance. “What are you talking about? You just call me out of the blue, pissed off at me?”

“I just… ARGH!” JC resisted the urge to slam the phone against the wall. “Fuck it. I don’t know. Are we together or not?”

The pause was a millisecond too long. “Of course we are.”

JC laughed bitterly, surprising even himself.

“What makes you feel like you have to ask?” Justin was getting that controlled, steadied tone of voice he got when he was feeling angry and didn’t want to act angry.

“I haven’t seen you in months, Just. Am I in a relationship with you or my hand? Fuck. It wouldn’t kill you to just come over and visit sometimes.” JC plopped down on the couch, remembering what he did there just yesterday afternoon. Just sitting on it reminded him that he was disgusted with himself.

“I can’t be in two places at once!” Justin’s voice was such that JC got the impression of him throwing up his hands in the air. “I’ve already signed up to use the studios here, you know that.”

“Well, maybe you should’ve thought of that before.”

For a moment, JC only heard air and a small crackle of static. He glared at his cell, willing it to behave. They didn’t do all those fucking phone ads to get crappy service.

It seemed like ages when Justin spoke again, but in reality it had probably been five seconds. “I thought you said you supported me,” he said in a softer tone of voice.

Damn Justin. Damn him and his stupid solo album and his fucking little boy act because it was not going to affect JC this time. Not this time.

“I do support you,” said JC. He could have not said any truer words. “I… I just don’t want to be waiting around forever.” At the end of the sentence, JC’s voice was cracking. Dammit all to hell.

“JC… don’t…”

Before any tears could spill, JC squeezed his eyes shut and muttered, “Bye.” He thumbed the phone off and threw it, as hard as he could, against the wall.

The bits of plastic shattered apart and fell to the floor with a clatter. JC didn’t notice, though.

* * *

JC’s answering machine beeped for the sixth time that morning.

Well, at least now he was calling.

As JC had done for the first five times, he let the phone ring. Right now, he was organizing through his CD and record collection and he just didn’t want to answer. He was still pissed out of his mind. How dare Justin try to guilt trip him into giving in, again? JC was tired of always being the one to compromise. If Justin wanted to be with him, then tough shit, because he was gonna have to clean up his act first.

Hey, this is JC. I can’t get to the phone right now so leave a message after the beep.

“JC, I know you’re there. Pick up the goddamn phone right now.”

Very carefully, JC put his old Michael Jackson album alongside the other ones on the shelf. He didn’t move from where he sat on his living room floor.

Justin’s voice continued, sounding tinny and hard over the answering machine’s small speaker. “Your cell is out of service and you won’t answer your phone. So what the fuck am I supposed to do, JC? What? You call me and act like a fucking bitch and you hang up before I even understand what you’re goddamn upset about! God! I don’t even know why I -- ARGH!”

With that, the message ended.

JC dusted off his Stevie Wonder albums and hummed a tuneless melody to himself.

* * *

Hey, this is JC. I can’t get to the phone right now so leave a message after the beep.

“What the fuck is with you, Jayce? I don’t even know what I did wrong! I’m just trying to do what you guys said I could do. You know that making an album is hard ass work. I can’t be flying across the fucking country whenever you feel lonely. I’m sorry that I’m trying to have a life.”

JC shook his head and continued rinsing the dishes.

* * *

“Hi.”

“Hey! How’s it going?”

“Eh, so-so. Last night was great though.”

“Really? I’m sorry I missed your opening night. I really wanted to see you but… you know, I didn’t want to steal your glory and all.”

“Your ass ain’t that sweet, Chasez.”

“Oh, you know it is.” JC smiled and settled back into his armchair. Times like these he wished he had a cat. Something soft and warm to hold in his arms and to pet. Something with short hair to run his fingers through. JC then sighed at himself when his own thoughts betrayed him. Not going to think about him now, he told himself. Not anymore. Not until he gets a clue. Shaking his head, JC said, “So why’re you calling?”

Joey’s voice sounded like it did whenever he was forced to talk about something he didn’t want to get involved with. He came out sounding both sardonic and exasperated. “Justin called me.”

“Oh.” JC didn’t know what to say after that. He had gotten into the habit of checking his caller ID whenever the phone rang now. Over the past few days, he had mostly let it ring. JC picked up the phone when he saw Joey’s name though, glad to have someone to talk to again. Now he was regretting answering it in the first place. He didn’t want to talk about Justin. JC told Joey this, but his friend ignored him.

“He was…” Joey sighed. “Forceful. To say the least. Nearly swore my ear off.”

Wearily, JC asked, “What did he want to talk to you about?”

“I don’t know, really. He didn’t seem to know either,” said Joey. “I mean, he knows you’re mad at him but I don’t think he really knows why.”

“He should.”

“Justin’s been having a rough time, you know that. I don’t blame him if he’s being a little clueless right now. He’s trying to… kind of… find himself. Try to be his own person.”

“He already is his own person. He doesn’t need to change himself.”

JC could hear the wry smile in Joey’s voice. “You might know that, and I might know that, but he doesn’t. Not really, not yet. Wait for him. Give him time.”

“I’m giving him all the time in the world.” JC tried to keep the anger out of his voice.

Joey sighed. “Well, the last thing I need is to be the middle man here,” he said. “So you two get things figured out between yourselves.”

“We’ll try,” said JC. He said those words mostly for Joey’s comfort, more than anything else. Joey hated whenever his friends were fighting. All those years ago, when they lived on the tour buses together, Joey would sit in the corner and watch their arguments with those sorrowful half-moon eyes of his. Those eyes guilt-tripped everyone to make up in the end, even when Joey never said anything. Somehow, even talking to Joey on the phone now, JC felt like Joey was silently reprimanding both him and Justin again.

Saying a brief good-bye, JC hung up the phone. He stared up at the ceiling and for some reason, found himself wishing that the phone would ring again.

“We’ll try,” said JC, but no one heard him except the empty room.

* * *

Days passed.

The phone stayed relatively silent.

When JC checked the caller ID now, it was mostly his other friends, asking him to go out clubbing or out to dinner. He let the phone ring.

A few times, Chris and Joey had called. Even Lance called once, all the way from Russia. JC picked up the receiver then.

Days passed and the caller ID never displayed Justin’s name.

JC sat on his couch, watching daytime trash television and soap operas. He ate warmed-over veggie burgers and seriously considered buying a cat. Or maybe two. Or three.

Then JC suddenly had a horrible vision in his mind of himself fifty years from now, sitting on the same couch watching the same trash television, with two dozen cats or more. He would become one of those old spinsters, which would be tragically pathetic considering he had once been a pop star with the world at his fingertips. JC imagined himself sitting on that couch forever with his two dozen cats, only getting up to go to the bathroom or to yell at noisy teenagers who trampled across his yard.

With a hard shudder, JC came back to reality.

He watched one girl throw a chair at another, yelling in bleeps and cut-off sentences.

Reality wasn’t much better.

JC stared at the phone and wondered why wouldn’t the goddamn thing RING?

* * *

Hey, this is JC. I can’t get to the phone right now so leave a message after the beep.

“JC… okay, I know that you’re mad. I’ve been thinking hard this past week, trying to figure out why the hell you’re mad at me. At first I didn’t understand why. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I’m not cheating on you or anything, you know that. And I just couldn’t understand.”

Justin sighed then, as if he were lifting a great weight off of his chest.

“Then I tried to reverse our positions, you know? Like all that psychobabble tells you to do. So I did. And then I thought about it. Really. And I got it. I totally did.”

A bitter laugh came over the answering machine’s speaker. It was a complex blending of emotions that only Justin could ever convey in just a laugh.

“If I were you, think I’d hate me right now too. I… I know I fucked up bad. I don’t blame you for being angry. I’m sorry. I know the sorry isn’t enough. Actually, I’m calling to tell you I’m going to the airport now to catch the next plane out to Florida. I don’t care if you want to see me right now or not… but I’m coming. Love you. Bye.”

The answering machine clicked off but JC didn’t hear any of it since he was in the shower, listening to the rush of spraying water pound through his ears.

* * *

“Hi.”

“H-hey.”

“I’ve missed you.”

JC smiled and didn’t say anything in response. He stared down at the pancakes he was making in the frying pan instead.

“You got my messages?”

Staring at the cooking pancake, JC nodded. Then, just because JC couldn’t help it any longer, he burst out laughing. He laughed until his shoulders shook and tears ran down his cheeks.

Then Justin’s arms came around him, wrapping around his middle and capturing him in a warm hug. Justin rested his chin on JC’s left shoulder, tilting his head a little to smile at JC. In a voice as soft as a kiss, he said, “I’m sorry, Jayce. I… I haven’t been around lately.”

It wasn’t until Justin’s blunt fingers came to brush at JC’s cheek that JC realized he was still crying. His tears dripped and evaporated in the pan, floating away into the air, like rain on hot pavement.

JC smiled and turned his head, finding a welcoming warm mouth to kiss there. The kiss was like the soft crush of red rose petals, like a long-forgotten memory. “It’s okay,” JC said. And it was. He smiled through the teary blur of his vision. “You’re back now.”

“Yeah,” said Justin. He kissed JC again. “I’m back.”