The figure moves a little. The sheets rustle with the movement. A golden head peers out and checks the clock. "Almost nine," says the soft voice, laced with a Southern accent.

"Shit." Justin sits up. "Really?"

"Yeah." The girl turns over, into Justin's arms. She hooks her own arms around Justin's neck. Justin lets her. She asks, "Is that a problem?"

"Well, kinda yes and kinda no." Justin looks at her in the morning light, which peeks through the hotel curtains. He can't remember her name.

Is it Abby? Or Annie? She had looked sexy last night, sweet and seductive, but she looks serene now. Innocent. Angelic. Justin almost feels bad about what he had done to her, in the night, when she didn't look so much like a girl he could take home to his mom.

"So which is it?" she asks. Her smile is so bright.

Justin turns away from her kiss. "You should go," he says. He gently removes her embrace from his neck.

Abby or Annie watches him in silence as Justin gets up. He pulls on his boxers, then his jeans. When he turns to look back at the bed, she's still sitting there. The white sheets she holds against her chest are a sharp contrast to her deep tan.

"Really," Justin adds for emphasis.

"When will I see you again?" she asks. She gets up now, letting the sheets drop, as she pulls on her underwear and her dress.

Justin takes out some orange juice from the mini-bar, as he waits for Abby or Annie to finish dressing.

When she has her shoes on, Justin places a gentle kiss on her cheek and opens the door for her. Abby or Annie looks at him, then at the open door, and back again. Her smile slips away and melts into a sort of accepting frown. "Oh," she whispers. Her voice is resigned. "There won't be an 'again.'"

And Justin almost feels guilty then, because he had liked Abby or Annie more than most of the other girls. Almost. But he has seen too many of those smiles slip away for it to affect him any more.

She walks with the resolution of one determined to keep her dignity. Abby or Annie glides past him and Justin smells the scent of sex and rose perfume. Then she's gone.

JC ambles by, still in his sweats, feet bare. He sees Abby or Annie walking away, so fast, her head held rigid. JC glances at Justin, then at the glass of orange juice in Justin's hand. He looks like he's going to say something. Justin dares him to, with his eyes. But JC doesn't speak and continues walking down the hallway.

Justin slams the door closed and swears his head off, wondering why he feels so guilty because of a fucking glass of orange juice.

* * *

No one is downstairs yet.

Justin paces the lobby, the closed-off part that is for VIP guests only. The thin carpet almost squeaks beneath his new shoes. Justin's early, for once in his life, and now he knows why he's always late. Justin is getting bored, fast.

He keeps pacing, until he sees the elevator doors slide open with a ding.

JC gets off the elevator, still brushing imaginary lint off of his jacket.

Justin wonders why he suddenly feels so angry. Not with JC. With himself.

For a moment, Justin doesn't know what to do. He stops pacing and shoves his hands in his pockets. He almost steps forward to greet JC, almost, but stops himself.

While Justin does a two-step tango, forward and back, JC approaches him. His eyes are closed off and cold. Justin gets that angry feeling again, that feeling that makes him want to hit his own head against a wall.

He wants to run away.

But as JC steps up to him, JC smiles gently and his eyes melt from ice to liquid blue. "Hey, you're early for once," he says.

"Y-yeah." Justin can't think of anything else to say.

JC looks around the private lobby, which is empty except for them and the bodyguards. "What? No date for the awards show?"

Justin shakes his head.

Then JC smiles again. He then starts and pauses, as if he just remembered something. "Here, you forgot this yesterday, in the car. They probably fell out of your pocket," JC says. He pulls something out of his pocket and presses it into Justin's hand.

The metal of the car keys is cold, in Justin's palm. But JC's fingers, JC's touch, had been warm. They leave a memory of heat on Justin's skin.

Before Justin can say thanks or anything, the other guys come out of the elevator.

"C'mon, J," says JC.

For some reason, Justin feels relieved, but he doesn't know why. He follows JC out of the lobby and into the afternoon light.

* * *

It had been a morning like any other morning. Yet... the whole thing stuck out so clearly in Justin's memory. Like a sore thumb, that begged to be remembered even when Justin tried to forget.

Chris had been in the bathroom, Joey's snores had been humming through the bus and Lance had been puttering around in the small kitchen area. How that guy managed to actually 'putter' was beyond Justin. Puttering was for old ladies.

"So." Justin had been lying on the couch. He had no idea why he was up so early.

JC had lowered his eyelids. Raised them. Deliberately, slowly, like he had to think about each separate movement. JC wasn't an early riser, either. Never had been. "So."

"Pass me the cereal."

"Get it yourself."

The bus wheels rocked pleasantly beneath. They almost lulled Justin back to sleep.

"Hey, J."

"Yeah?"

And then, despite how clear the memory was, Justin could not remember a single word that JC had said. It didn't matter. That wasn't the important part.

Justin had just looked up. He remembered seeing JC's lips move as he spoke. He remembered the Julius Caesar haircut that JC wore. He remembered that JC had on this old Redskins t-shirt on that morning. He remembered that JC had his hands folded behind his head, as he lay on the couch opposite Justin. He remembered JC's eyes had looked straight at Justin, straight at him, bright and deep.

That moment was so clear, but Justin couldn't remember anything that JC said.

Because Justin had fallen in love.

In that one, single moment.

Of course, it didn't make any sense. It was like suddenly realizing someone you had known forever was an alien. Or something. Totally unexpected.

Justin had known JC for a long time, even back then, and if he was going to fall in love with JC, he would've probably done it sooner. But for some reason... it struck Justin then, though the haze of the early morning. Sudden, surprising. Justin's heart was pounding, his mind was whirling, his hands and feet got cold because he just... knew.

Cupid had gotten him. Gotten him good.

"You're beautiful," Justin blurted out, in the middle of JC's sentence. He had never meant anything more in his entire life.

JC raised an eyebrow at him, smiling. "Uh-huh. Thanks." His smile was amused.

Justin's heart hammered in his chest and a fire burned in his cheeks. He got up and went to his bunk. He slammed the curtain closed.

He didn't love JC. Who was he kidding? JC was a jerk.

* * *

Justin had tried to forget that moment.

Immersed himself in everything else, in anything else, just to forget.

Forget the burning red heat in his cheeks. Forget the impulse to run and hide. Forget a time when Justin Timberlake was not wanted. Not needed. And not in control.

Because remembering was like remembering that time when you tried to give yourself a haircut that looked like a weed whacker attacked your head, after the kids at school called you ChiaPet. You made yourself forget those moments, because remembering them hurt. Embarrassment hurts.

He had almost forgotten. Cupid could forget about that stupid fucking arrow.

Then, one morning, probably three years after that other morning... JC had looked over at him and smiled. No special smile in particular. Just a 'good morning' smile across the breakfast table at rehearsal.

Again, it didn't make any sense. Cheese platters didn't make a person feel amorous.

"Morning, J," JC had said.

Cupid had refilled his quiver. Justin was a pincushion of love arrows.

The moment of confusion and embarrassment and heat and want and everything had come back, throbbing hot and sore.

He had almost forgotten what it felt like. Almost.

* * *

On his way back to his room, Justin nearly stumbles. He steadies himself with the wall, his palm pressed flat against the cool wallpaper. He licks his cracked lips. They taste salty and slightly sour. He's so thirsty.

All Justin wants is to go back to his room and fill up his bathtub. Then drink it. Then maybe he'd take a shower. But... yes, he needs something to drink, first.

"Hey," says a voice. Justin stumbles into familiar arms. Warm, gangly, all muscle. That's JC. All the guys hug differently. Hugging JC is like hugging an enthusiastic Gumby.

Justin presses his nose against JC's collar. JC smells like smoke and sour alcohol. Oh yeah. JC had been at the party too. "Mmm..." Justin mutters into JC's skin. "Thirsty."

"Hmm..." says JC. "I think you've had enough to drink, man."

Not fair. "Water," Justin croaks.

"All right, J. C'mon." JC's eyes crinkle from his smile, like they always do when JC's amused. "I'll take you to your room."

Maybe Justin is more sober than he thinks, because he's pretty much aware of everything that's going on. But... it's like he's watching it happen, and unable to stop anything at all. Like Justin's mind was saying, here I am, stumbling along down the hallway. Here I am, being held by JC. Here I am, going in my room. Can't do a thing about it.

As soon as JC sticks the card key in and opens the door, Justin walks forward, more or less in a straight line. He plops facedown, spread-eagled, onto his bed. It wasn't even like he had plopped down. More like the mattress had gotten bigger and came up to catch him.

"Dude, I thought you wanted water," says JC voice, from somewhere behind him.

Justin grunts and hopes that's a good enough answer. His face is smooshed against the pillow. It felt quite comfortable there and he wasn't moving now, thank you very much. The water could wait.

"Okay," says JC, drawing out the "oh" sound, amused.

Drifting in and out of sleep, Justin is aware of the hissing sound as JC goes into the bathroom and runs the tap. It seems like only seconds went by, but Justin must have dozed off, because JC is magically sitting beside him on the bed.

"Roll over, J."

"Nhgh," Justin says into the pillow.

"You've gotta drink before you get dehydrated."

And then JC's hand is on him, pulling at Justin's side and easily turning Justin over onto his back. The man is a skinny freak but he has always been surprisingly strong. Justin cracks open one eye and sees blue ones twinkling down at him.

"Open up," says JC. His voice is on the edge of Justin's dreams.

Justin opens his mouth obediently, like a kid in a highchair. JC tips a Dixie cup, thin and fragile, against Justin's bottom lip. Water trickles out, into Justin's parched mouth, down his throat. Rain on a cracked oasis. Feels so good...

Good God, when did water become erotic?

"That's a good boy," says JC. He actually fucking pets Justin on the head, but Justin is too out of it to do anything about it. The Dixie cup is empty and JC takes it away.

Justin groans.

Surprised, JC turns back. "Want more?"

The only thing Justin can do is nod.

"Okay. Hold on, you big baby." JC is gone and it seems like he's back instantly. Justin must've fallen asleep again.

Except this time, when JC raises the cup to Justin's mouth, Justin takes JC's wrist. Guides the movement, the pouring. Justin gulps down the water. The cup is empty in seconds. Justin is more awake now. But God, he's still so thirsty. And before JC can pull away, Justin tugs on JC's wrist. JC falls forwards onto Justin, off-balance.

So Justin takes the opportunity to kiss him.

And maybe, maybe Justin made JC fall forward on purpose. But that doesn't really matter, does it? Justin doesn't feel so thirsty now.

JC makes a surprised, startled sound against Justin's mouth. And his eyes are open. Justin can tell, without looking. Just... something in the feel of JC's mouth. A shock kiss. JC isn't even kissing back. But Justin persists, feeling JC against him and pulling him close. And JC stops being rigid and sort of melts into it. Justin feels JC's eyes close.

Kissing JC is... like kissing JC. Justin had done it before, just not to this degree. He kinda remembers what JC's mouth feels like. What JC's breath feels like. But Justin doesn't remember how silky JC's hair is. Or how warm JC's hands feel on his thighs. This kiss isn't something totally new... but it is.

And somehow, along the way, Justin totally loses control of the situation. It probably happened somewhere between the moaning and the panting. Mostly coming from Justin. Because, suddenly, JC is in control of the kiss, his hands running up Justin's body to cup Justin's face. Fierce and tender, all at once.

Justin moans again when JC's hips move against his. His mind is running a mantra through his brain - oh God don't stop don't stop don't stop please oh God please - And all Justin can do is pray that he's not saying any of that out loud.

"You like that?" JC says against Justin's mouth. His hips are still moving.

"Yes-ess..." says Justin, unable to stop himself from saying so.

Abruptly, JC stops. Stops moving. Stops kissing. His eyes get dark and cold, like winter. "So how would you feel if I just fucked you and left you in the morning?"

Justin freezes. His hearts stops.

"How would you feel, Justin?" JC demands. His voice is harsh, but his touch is so gentle. His fingers brush softly along Justin's chest. A sharp contradiction. Justin doesn't know which to believe.

Squeezing his eyes shut, hiding from those icy eyes, Justin mutters, "I'd die."

"You would die if I left you in the morning." JC repeats the words, emotionlessly. Slowly, but it seems so sudden, JC kisses him. Their lips meet, soft and hot.

Justin's eyes fly open.

JC's expression is kind and his eyes are warm again. "Good thing I won't."

Before Justin can even register what just happened, JC is kissing him again.

"You... won't..." Justin says against JC's mouth, voice hoarse.

"No." JC whispers and sidles up against him. He wraps his arms around Justin's torso. Kisses Justin's shoulder. Rests his head against the back of Justin's neck. "I won't."

Justin breathes out, relieved. It feels like he's been waiting forever to do that.

"You won't leave either, will you." JC isn't asking. He knows.

"No." Justin's voice is a whisper. He tries to say it. He desperately wants to say it. "C. I've always... It was always..."

Before Justin can finish, JC shakes his head. His soft hair is silkily ticklish against Justin's skin. "I know," is all JC says.

As they fall asleep, JC's hand grasps Justin's in the dark. A quiet promise.

Drifting on the edge of sleep and awake, Justin finishes the sentence inside his head.

It was always you.