Title: The Incredibly True Adventures of Two Teenage Boys in Something Like Love
Author: Cherry Vanilla
Fandom: Popslash
Pairing: Justin Timberlake/Nick Carter
Rating: R, m/m sex, language
Status: NEW, Complete 6/04/03
Summary: The classic Boy meets Boy, Boy hates Boy, Boy really loves Boy story. You know the drill.
Props to Rocky, who lures me in and then helps me out. Any timeline errors within are my own.
Disclaimer: It could have happened like this. But most likely, it didn't.
* * * * * * *
Germany, April, 1997.
* * * * * *
The first time he meets Nick Carter is in the lobby of their hotel in Germany. Lou walks past, saying he needs to get his 'boys' settled. Lance scowls, Chris's eyes are focused on one of the 'boys' walking by, and Justin is crashed into by a wave of blonde.
The kid looks back, unapologetically, a smirk on his face as he follows after Lou in a confident stride. It was then he decided he hated Nick Carter. And hadn't been watching his ass as he walked away.
* * * * * * * * *
So of course knew who the The Backstreet Boys were(who didn't, lately?) and of course he was aware they were doing the UK promoting thing along with Nsync and of course he'd known they were both going to be at the Children Need a Helping Hand charity shoot. But that still hadn't prepared him for seeing Nick Carter again; with his fucking cocky smirk and his god damn soft looking hair and his superior attitude, like their band was so fucking special.
And so what if Nick had actually never said anything to that effect and Justin had nothing to base his accusations on except that irritating smirk from the hotel lobby; he was sixteen, he was allowed to be an asshole.
Nick doesn't look at him the whole time and that makes Justin even angrier. JC whispers at one point 'Lighten up, J, you're gonna scare the kids', and he manages a real laugh because JC's the best friend ever. He pulls himself together for the rest of the taping. Afterwards, when the crowd's dispersed, he sees Nick talking to JC. And the anger returns. JC is waving his arms animatedly and Nick is smiling and no. Just. No.
JC chooses that moment to look back at him.
He wants to bolt but then C is walking over and. "Hey? You met Nick yet?"
He looks at his feet and he knows he's behaving like he's six years old but he can't help it. And worse, he doesn't know why. Then JC's arm is curving around his neck and pulling him close. "You're worrying me, kiddo. Come on over. He's cool, and you guys are nearly the same age."
And really, that's the last thing he wants to do. But he allows himself to be pulled over and then he's right in front of Nick and those stupid too blue eyes are smirking again and he wants to punch him. Or kiss him.
"Nick, this is Justin."
"We've met," and Nick's smile curves up and dammit what is it about this guy that gets under his skin?
"Oh?" And JC is looking back and forth between them like there's some mystery to be solved and Justin wishes they could leave now. Taping over. Nothing more to see, folks.
"Sorta bumped into your boy here yesterday. Sorry bout that, man."
And he tries to pretend that apology didn't make his stomach flutter or the way his lips curved into a genuine smile didn't make his cock jump, but. Well.
"It's alright." And he smiles back widely, and when he looks at JC his previous confusion has turned knowing and he gives Justin a quick wink before leaving them alone.
"You guys sounded good today."
"Thanks," he mumbles. 'Stop blushing, you idiot', he thinks, 'you've been receiving compliments since you were five'.
Then those blue eyes are piercing through him again and yeah. Those compliments never came from someone this hot.
"Uh, you too."
And then Nick is leaning in and whispering, "Come back stage? I wanna show you something." And all he can do is nod, his mouth dry, and hope his feet obey.
When he meets up with the guys to head back to the hotel he wants to tell all of them what he'd been doing five minutes before. How sweet Nick's mouth tasted. How they'd licked at one another's lips for long minutes, pushed up against some secluded dark corner, near a storage closet, Nick making little panting noises, pushing against him fiercely; the heat radiating off Nick's body making him dizzy.
"Fuck, you're hot," Nick had whispered and he couldn't do anything but whimper and push against him, their hands threaded through one another's hair, bodies crashing blindly, legs sliding through thighs and the sound of Nick's strangled moan as he sucked on his neck was enough to make him come, pulsating hard in his jeans, as Nick swallowed his moan in a harsh kiss and came right after.
He looks back and forth between the guys. But no one's paying attention and no one probably cares, and Lance would probably think he was a loser for not even getting his cock touched. But JC gives him a searching look as they get off the bus. And he's not quite sure, but it looks a little like concern.
He forgets it when thinking back to the way he and Nick had kissed and nuzzled afterwards.
* * * * * * * *
The next day he calls Nick's hotel room and Howie, he thinks, picks up and he can hear Nick's moan and wet kissing sounds. And Nick's laughter in the background sounds mean. And his voice is cruel and blatently drunk when he says "It was just a fuck, J. Forget it."
He slams the phone down, glad to be leaving the next day.
He hates Nick Carter.
* * * * * * * * *
Germany, September, 1997.
He hates Nick Carter. He hates his fucking cocky attitude and his fucking still gorgeous hair and the way he's standing behind him, hand on his shoulder. So close he can feel the heat from his body, the moisture of his sweaty hand seeping through his jersey.
Tries to forget the way Nick's eyes met his during the game, challenging his in a way that had nothing to do with the game. How he'd grin that shit-eating grin anytime he'd score and brush against Justin any chance he'd gotten.
Tries to forget that he's hard right now, just from Nick's hand, and remember why he hates him in the first place. But Nick is holding the microphone and laughing and people are watching so he forces himself to smile. And then geniunely laughs at something JC says and it isn't too terrible.
They change, and he pretends not to feel Nick's eyes on his body. Tries not to look back. But he has to. And catches a flash of his bare ass as he strips out of his shorts and into his baggy black pants. Then Chris is patting him on the shoulder and telling him to get a move on. Blue eyes hold his as Nick walks out, confident stride seeming even sexier now than it was then.
* * * * * * *
They take a few group shots. And some cosmic joke has him placed next to Nick. Nick's arm is around his again. And he tries to ignore him.
"Tough break, Golden-Boy, losing to Lance of all bandmates."
And Nick's grinning smugly, pointing his finger at Justin, and as he looks over, anger growing in his face, the camera flashes again.
Everyone's leaving, but he spots Nick making his way across the court to the bathrooms. Looking around quickly, he jogs after him.
"What the hell was that about?" He shouts before the door is even fully closed behind him and Nick's just standing there, same grin in place. And then he's reaching out and pushing him roughly into the stall and mumbling against his neck, "To get you pissed off. To get you in here."
And. Oh.
The anger ebbs away, replaced by desperate need and he arches up against Nick's hips. As sharp teeth graze his neck their cocks kiss through the fabric.
"You're such a bastard."
Nick laughs against his skin, moves his hand down, squeezes his dick lightly and he moans, grinds against the hot palm. "This part of you doesn't think so."
"Bastard. Fuckin'.."
"Shut up, J." And covers his mouth, tongue pushing roughly inside, tangling and it's dirty and hot and he hates him. Fuckin'..
"Called you.." Can't stop it. Damn idiot.
And Nick's kneeling down, untying his pants, sliding them over his sweaty hips, cold air hitting like a slap.
"When?"
"After ... last time."
"Mmm." Yeah. Just 'Mmm's'. Like that's a fucking answer. But he can't complain. Because Nick's mouth is licking a slow line up his thigh, and it's hot, so hot, and he's banging his head against the wall, legs braced on either side of the porcelain bowl and. Fuckgodyes.
Wicked tongue sliding up his cock, hot mouth closing over the head, sucking slowly. Teeth grazing at one point and he winces and yeah. That was deliberate. Fucker.
A soft pop and, "I was drunk. And you were leavin'.. and that's. How I deal."
And then the mouth is back, working him hard and he can't even fathom those words or how they make him melt inside more than the soft glide of Nick's tongue and how of all the times to say it, he chooses now, while sucking Justin's dick and yeah. Maybe that's just Nick.
He can't form a sentence; can barely think. So he touches Nick's hair softly and combs his fingers through it and figures the soft moan in response is enough.
Then he's thrusting slowly and Nick is moaning more, lapping at him sloppily, losing rhythm as the thrusts become intense and he feels the rush of heat, rising up in his balls, his legs tensing and.
"Hey, J, you in here?"
Oh. *Fuck*.
Nick freezes in mid-suck, mouth hovering halfway down his length, the tickle of harsh, hot terrified breath against his flesh making him shiver.
"Uh. Y-yeah.. Lance. I'll b-be. Right t-there." And Nick, the bastard, starts moving again and he sucks in a breath and lets out a strangled moan, legs and body tense for a completely different reason now.
It feels like forever but then he hears Lance's quiet laughter and. "Okay, we'll be in the bus. And dude, light a match when you're done."
The sound of the door closing causes him to sigh heavily and Nick is laughing against his cock and sucking in earnest and he holds his head, whispering 'shut up, asshole' and thrusts up, coming hard and moaning and all he can think is how for the first time he's thankful for Lance's immaturity and how he's more likely to make fart jokes than piece together that Nick Carter was on his knees sucking Justin's cock 'till he couldn't see straight.
* * * * * * * *
This time when Justin gets on the bus he doesn't want anyone to know at all. He thinks of how the guys sit around and tell all their sexual experiences in lewd detail and while he enjoys it, he wants this just for himself. Because this time when they kissed afterward, it was different in some way. He felt that stomach flip. That piece of him melt inside again, like when Nick said he was sorry.
He doesn't know what it is. And he doesn't know what JC sees on his face when he looks at him. But this time, it's soft and maybe a little wistful.
Like after MMC ended and JC was leaving to live with Tony in LA and Justin had never seen him so happy. But then he came back sadder than ever, yet it was okay, JC said, because he had J and that was good. That was great. And he always said his moving in was the best thing to happen to him, really helped him out. But Justin still remembered the long phone calls at night and JC working his ass off trying to get them a demo, so they can be somewhere else, be something else. Instead of JC wishing he were back in LA; wishing Tony actually wanted him there.
But that was JC; didn't mean it had to happen to him.
He watches the other bus as it starts. And thinks of Nick's eyes, full of vulnerability as he gave Justin his number. The arrogant boy of five months ago, hell, five minutes ago, unrecognizable.
He just kissed him. And wrote his on Nick's palm. With a 'call me' under it. As if it wasn't already implied.
He sees the hand raised through the window, the blue ink ever present as the bus glides up beside theirs. He raises his hand in response, unable to keep the smile off his face.
JC reaches out and cuffs his hair, saying more with that single act than all the possible words in the universe. He looks up at him, then watches the bus pull away, and decides he's hated Nick Carter long enough.
* * * * * * *
END.
