From the moment he'd decided to do the VMAs, Justin had been more nervous than he'd admitted.

Lance had called to jokingly remind him that the money for the video was coming out of Justin's budget, not NSync's, so he might want to limit the number of hoochie dancers he'd have onstage. Justin had talked to the group accountant and his own accountant and then Jive's accountant, and thought he probably knew more about it than Lance did, now.

JC was stretched out on the couch in front of the TV, watching a baseball game when Lance called. He lifted his head when Justin laughed; he shifted his legs and motioned with the remote, so Justin stretched out beside him on the deep, comfortable couch. JC's arm dropped over Justin's body, his palm warm where it fell against Justin's belly.

Justin tilted his head back against JC's shoulder, intending to ask Lance if he'd met any nice Russian boys, but they ended the call when JC disagreed with the umpire and began shouting at the TV. JC was passionate about the Orioles, so Justin folded the phone and let him rant. After his tirade, JC nudged Justin's shoulder.

"Sorry about that, but the ump's a chump. So, what's up? And don't say nothing, 'cause I can read you like a book."

Justin didn't answer at first. "OK, you know that I'm nervous about this."

"Yeah, I guessed."

"Marty's moves look pretty good. And rehearsal starts in a few days." It had been odd to lay out his rehearsal gear without JC doing the same beside him.

JC rubbed his thumb gently over Justin's hip. "You going to be all right?" 

"I'll be alone," Justin said. He'd been thinking about it. It was something he wanted, but he was still scared shitless deep down inside. "God," he groaned, feeling miserable again. JC kissed him on the neck.

"You'll be ok," JC said, and kissed his shoulder.

"Mmm. Maybe." Justin turned so they were facing each other. The kiss started slow and sweet, but ended with Justin on his back, JC over him, and one of JC's long, slim thighs between Justin's legs. Justin made soft noises in his throat, gasping when JC moved to slip a hand down the front of his sweatpants.

They'd been together longer than they admitted to the guys; they'd told them three years ago, but it had started long before that. After six years JC could still get Justin hard with just a look, but JC's hands were involved now. Justin lifted his hips, and his sweatpants slid down easily.

"Jace--" Justin's breath caught in his throat when JC moved his hand between Justin's legs. "Want you there," he murmured against JC's neck, amazed he could talk at all, considering that JC was kissing his way down his body.

"Want me where?" JC asked softly between kisses, his tongue lapping a warm stripe down Justin's stomach.

"Oh, my God," Justin whispered. He spread his legs wider when JC nuzzled at the top of his thigh. Justin reached down until he felt the top of JC's head, his curly hair thick and soft in Justin's fingers. "Want you with me at rehearsals."

JC lowered his head to Justin's stomach, and his body began to shake.

"Babe?" Justin raised himself on one elbow and pushed the hair away from JC's forehead. "What's wrong?"

But when he lifted his head, JC was laughing, not crying. "Man, you must be nervous as hell, talking about rehearsal while I'm trying to give you a blow job. I'm trying to take your mind off it, J." JC licked Justin's stomach again. "But yeah, I'll go with you." He looked up at Justin and grinned, and Justin's heart flipped.

"I don't want to do anything without you," Justin said, and traced JC's lips with the tip of his finger. "Ever."

"You won't," JC said. "Ever."
 

-two- (rehearsal)

Being the sole point of focus for a rehearsal was the strangest feeling Justin had ever had. JC sat in front of him as he danced, and he watched Justin avidly. His expression serious, JC's shoulders dipped and swayed as he followed Justin's moves. 

During the first break JC pulled Justin into the nearest restroom. "You're gonna kill 'em," he said softly, then he pushed Justin back against the door and they kissed until Justin was breathless.

"Do you like it?" Justin asked. He kissed the corner of JC's mouth.

"Do you like it? That's what matters," JC returned. Justin shivered as JC's fingers trailed down his arm. "You're the man on this one."

"Yeah, I do. Um, we probably don't have time for..." Justin brushed his knuckles over the front of JC's t-shirt, felt JC's nipples stiffen, "...anything, do we?"

"No," JC laughed, "we don't," he held Justin's wrists, "and the other guys aren't here to create a distraction for us, so." When Justin sighed, JC kissed him again and tugged lightly on Justin's wrists. "Come on, they're probably looking for you."

Missing the pressure of JC's body against his, Justin reminded himself once again that yes, he really wanted this. 

They'd filmed MTV specials before, so they knew how invasive the cameras could be. For the VMA Diary, though, they only had one camera to deal with, and for that Justin was grateful. It was a one-day shoot, unlike the usual Diary segments, and all filming would be done at the rehearsal hall.

His mother had been asking when she could see the routine, and Justin had been putting her off for weeks. Every time she called, though, she sounded just a little more hurt when he said "not yet," so he figured that the Diary shoot would be as good a time as any for her to descend.

He thought of it that way now, since he and JC officially became a couple, as his mother "descending" into his life. She'd been supportive when they'd told her, but Justin could tell that she'd had reservations. She denied it when asked, and JC had told Justin he was imagining things. But Justin knew when the two most important people in his life weren't getting along, and JC and Lynn definitely weren't getting along.

When Justin told her she'd be the first official guest to stay at the new house, Lynn said, "JC hasn't stayed here yet?"

"He's not a guest," Justin said through lightly clenched teeth.

"I just meant--" Lynn started, but then JC walked in the room so Justin changed the subject.

Dawn was still an hour away, but Justin lay in bed thinking about the day ahead of him. He ran through the choreography in his head, closed his eyes and visualized the moves.

"Hey." JC turned on the small lamp by the bed and thumbed the dimmer switch on the cord until the light was low and soft.

"Did I wake you up?" Justin shifted onto his side to face JC. He winced a little at the sound the bed made when he moved, and JC sighed.

"J, she's three rooms away," JC said softly. "And even if she was right in the next room, it's your house and you're a grown man. If you want to fuck your boyfriend through the mattress, you're allowed."

"Good thing she doesn't know how long we've really been together," Justin murmured. He slid closer and slowly nudged one leg between JC's. "This Diary thing today--" he started.

"It'll be ok," JC said. "I'm staying off-camera; I'm telling the crew I'm there as a friend, not as one-fifth of NSync." His hands were warm on Justin's hips, and Justin squirmed when JC untied the drawstring on his pajama bottoms.

"What? Fuck that, I'm not worried about that," Justin said with a sharp inhalation of breath as JC's hand disappeared down the front of his pants. He stopped thinking, just let himself enjoy the way JC's hand curved around his erection. 

"No? So what're you worried about, then?" JC asked. He stopped stroking briefly to tug Justin's pajama pants down and off. He scooted further down the bed and kissed the base of Justin's cock.

"Jace...oh my God," Justin whimpered. 

"That's right," JC laughed softly. "You're in good hands, baby, so don't worry about a thing."

Justin whimpered again and spread his legs wider. Very good hands, indeed.
 

-three- (performance)

He was thinking about several things at once, but the most important sat next to him in the limo, silent and staring out of the window.

"You're pissed," Justin finally said, peeling off the leather wristlets he wore on each arm. "We talked about this a fuckin' million times and you told me you were cool with it." He tossed the wristlets to the floor.

"You were up there with four other guys," JC murmured. He was still looking out of the window. "It was--" JC sighed. "It was pretty weird."

"You were at nearly every rehearsal, man," Justin said softly.

"Yeah, well, seeing it happen for real was different," JC replied just as softly.

Justin let his head fall back against the cool leather of the seat. "Can we pretend to have a good time tonight?" he sighed. "Just pretend to be happy for me tonight and we'll figure out the rest tomorrow." Justin looked up when JC turned slowly to face him.

" 'Figure out the rest tomorrow'?" JC repeated. His eyes widened a bit. "Pretend to be happy for you?" His voice rose in volume as he spoke, and Justin definitely recognized the tone. "What the fuck is your problem? You want to throw six years away because it's taking me a little while to adjust to your solo status? Well, excuse the fuck out of me, you insensitive fuck."

"Wha...? Me, insensitive? You've got to be shitting me," Justin spluttered. "How about a little support on my big night, huh? It'd kill you to be happy for me?" 

"You don't think I'm happy for you?" JC looked incredulous. "You don't think I'm so fuckin' proud of you that I can't stand it?" JC asked. "Well, fuck you!" he screamed. "Fuck! You!"

They were both breathing hard. "You're sitting there pouting, but you're proud of me?" Justin's chest was tight with anger. "What the hell, Jace?" 

JC took a deep breath and ran his hand over his eyes. "J--" He stopped. "Justin, we've worked together for nine years." He raised his eyes to Justin's. "Nine years, J. That's a long time. I'm happy for you, yeah, but..." JC swallowed and looked out of the window again. "It's fuckin' hard to watch you move on without me."

"No, Jace. No." Justin slid across the seat, long legs pressed tight against JC's. "No." He laid a hand high on JC's thigh. "No," he whispered, and pressed his lips against JC's neck. "Not moving on. No way." He kissed the other side of JC's neck, swept his tongue into the hollow of JC's throat. He let out a shuddery breath when after what seemed too long, JC's hands settled lightly on his hips. "Not going anywhere." He kissed the sensitive spot just under JC's ear, and JC's grip on him tightened.

"J," JC said low in his throat, so low that Justin could barely hear him.

"Love you, you moron." Justin kissed JC's jaw, leaned back a bit so he could see JC's face. JC looked thoughtful, gazing back at Justin with more trust in his eyes than Justin had ever seen. "Freaks me out sometimes, how much I love you." 

"Why are you freaked?" JC asked, but he kissed Justin before he could answer. Justin pressed hard against JC, and their tongues moved slow and languid as he loosened JC's belt. The belt free, Justin slowly unzipped JC's jeans and eased his hand beneath the elastic of his boxers. JC's erection was long, hard, thick and warm in his hand.

"What if it's too much?" Justin said, leaning his forehead against JC's, moving slightly so JC could spread his legs. "You might leave me behind, decide that I'm not enough for you." Justin eased himself off the seat and onto the limo floor; he tucked his hands under JC's knees and pulled him forward. He ran his hands over JC's thighs, testing the solid curve of muscle beneath the denim.

"You're such a freak," JC said softly. "Why would I want anyone else?" He swept his thumb lightly over Justin's cheek.

Justin turned his face into JC's hand for a moment, and pressed his lips to JC's palm. "Love you," he whispered, and kissed JC's knee. "So much." He kissed his way up JC's thigh, still squeezing with one hand. "Time to get busy," he said, and eased JC's cock out of his boxers.

JC smelled good, clean from his body wash, clean but also very male. He tasted male too, and Justin was once again fiercely thankful that he'd found the love of his life so early. It seemed as though JC had always been in his life, and when Justin pictured the future, JC was there. He was always there, and Justin had been telling the truth when he'd said he didn't want it any other way.

And now JC squirmed against the seat, head thrown back, and his hands skittered over Justin's scalp as Justin raised and lowered his head slowly. Justin loved the feel and taste of JC in his mouth. He was hard himself; he wanted nothing more than to push JC onto his back and bury himself between JC's legs, but right now... Right now he wanted to make JC feel good, and apparently, he was doing a good job.

"Baby," JC murmured. He lifted his hips and hooked a leg around Justin's back; hands kneading Justin's shoulders as he arched into Justin's mouth. He made soft sounds of pleasure, and thrust into Justin's mouth again. "J, oh God," he panted, "J, I just love your...brain," JC gasped.

Justin snorted around JC's cock; he laughed, and eased back on his heels and looked up at JC, who was choking back a giggle. "Fucker," Justin smiled, "that's unfair, man. And do you want this blow job or not?" He rose to his knees, sliding his hands up JC's thighs to his hips. "I mean, I tipped the driver to circle around for a little while..." He wiggled his eyebrows and lightly stroked JC's cock. "Or do you want to finish this at home?" He teased the head of JC's cock with his tongue, satisfied when JC groaned in response.

"Keep. Doing that--" JC's voice sounded strained, and his body twisted under Justin's hands, his movements urgent. "Soon," he gasped again, "gonna--" Justin pulled out every little thing he knew that JC enjoyed. He loved that he could bring JC to this point, whimpering and twisting and helpless in his hands.

All conversation ceased and Justin stopped thinking.

In the space of a few seconds JC could go from being the dorkiest guy he knew, someone Justin had known nearly half his life, to the hottest guy on the planet. He was currently in hot mode, lying sprawled on the limo seat practically purring, freshly debauched and slightly sticky.

The driver spoke softly over the speaker, and asked if the gentlemen were still interested in attending the award show afterparties, or should he head to the hotel? Justin traded a look with JC, who nodded. Justin flipped a switch on the gleaming console in the door, and told the driver yes, he could take them to the party now. 

He watched with increasing interest as JC stripped off the white onlyartist.com shirt to reveal a tight black wifebeater underneath, and Justin spread his hands over JC's ribs.

He'd been in love since they'd first met. JC was everything and the only thing Justin had ever wanted; how the hell could JC think he'd want anything - anyone - else? Justin watched JC dance, moving like graceful, beautiful porn on the dance floor. Yeah right, like he was going anywhere with that waiting at home for him.

At home. For him.

No, Justin smiled and headed for the dance floor. He wasn't going anywhere.