One Time's A Shame
by saabira
For Nico.
It bothers you so much that Kevin doesn't like
you. It doesn't matter that it's not personal; it only matters that he doesn't
like you and he's never even met you. You understand it. If Lou had called a
meeting to tell you he was going to be supporting your only real competition,
you be pissed off, too, but Kevin still reminds you of the kids you used to go
to school with. Kids who called you Princess Justin and pushed you on the
playground. Kids who were mean without having a good reason.
JC tells you not to worry about it, that Kevin's mad at Lou, not at you. It
doesn't change anything.
You see the Backstreet Boys on European talk shows all the time. It's a pretty
common occurrence. Recently the interviewers began asking them about *nsync.
Questions about if you are all friends or if you're all enemies. Howie tells
them that he knows Chris from college, and Nick met JC at a MMC taping one
afternoon. Kevin doesn't say much, just that BSB is the real thing and that *nsync
are mere imposters. Always in that slow Kentucky drawl, mean words dripping from
his lips.
When the same reporters ask you about them, you never say anything; Chris and JC
say enough for everyone.
No one else seems to care, and you can only make Lance listen to you talk about
for a couple of weeks before he tells you to get loss.
It bugs you.
You lay in bed one night, your cock fisted in your hot palm, trying to be quiet
so you don't bother Lance sleeping on the other side of the room. You’re just
getting to the good part, when you’re hot all over and sweat is beaded on your
forehead. You see Kevin for just one second, his face twisted in an angry scowl,
you gasp and come faster than you can remember ever doing so before.
You stop talking about him after that.
You can't stop thinking about him, however.
In the shower, in your hotel bed at night. You hold off imagining him until the
end, telling yourself that you're not going to, and then- BAM- dark-green eyes
and dark hair and it never fails to send you spiraling over the edge.
It's embarrassing when you're hanging out with the guys and someone mentions
Backstreet. You imagine they know, that they can hear you thinking about him.
You're being paranoid.
But you don't stop.
~
The weekend of the basketball game comes around and suddenly you're plunged into
your worst nightmare. Kevin is everywhere. Lou has scheduled all the events so
that both groups are there together, hoping to stir up all kinds of media
speculation. You’re a little surprised how easy it is to avoid talking to him
even once.
You go back up to your hotel room to change your shirt after a morning of having
your picture taken. You're not paying attention, and when the elevator doors
slide open, you bump into the person waiting to come into the car. You look up,
halfway into your, "excuse me" and it's him. Kevin, with those eyes narrowed at
you.
"Sorry," you say, the word tripping on it's way out of your mouth as you turn to
see him enter the elevator.
"No problem, Justin," he replies.
And it's Pavlovian how you get hard in your shorts and your face lights up
crimson-red. The mirrored doors slide shut before you can say anything else, and
you are left looking at your reflection.
Fin: 04/03