![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
what you asked for
written a long time ago for J when I was bribing her to vote for BMU on TRL.
what you asked for
all made up
"You're sure about this, C?"
JC wiggled his hand experimentally and smiled as the silk tie knotted around his wrist didn't give at all. Justin might not have been a hundred percent behind the idea, but it was nice to know that the legendary Timberlake attention to detail extended to kinky sex. "Yeah. I'm good. Totally."
Justin bit his lip, but shrugged and reached for JC's other wrist. JC turned his head and watched as Justin carefully looped a very expensive Chanel scarf around the wrist and the bedpost, giving himself a stern warning against laughing at the focused, intent expression on Justin's face. Eleven years of watching that look in mirrored rehearsal studios and Playstation marathons and over soundboards, and it was just fucking surreal to be seeing it in bed. Happy surreal, like the high from the really good shit Chris could always be counted on to score, but nothing that could be grounded in what had been his normal world before he'd woken up one fine hiatus morning to find a serious Justin sitting cross-legged next to him, a Justin who quietly announced that he needed to clear up some things before he dove headlong into his solo album right before he leaned over and kissed JC. JC had gone to sleep that night with six feet of warm, sweaty boy wrapped around him, never having gotten out of bed, and had known his life had changed irrevocably.
He managed to not laugh, but he couldn't help smile from the sheer giddy joy of it all. Justin quirked an eyebrow. "Dude, you're the one who's tied to the bed here, you shouldn't be all that um, happy about it. Right?" JC gave up and snorted with laughter and Justin rolled his eyes as he walked across the room. "Seriously, man, you're at my mercy. Show some respect."
"Right, right, respect." JC composed himself but one look at Justin sorting through a pile of clothes dumped from a drawer set him off again. He couldn't help it; for a second, J looked exactly like Lynn doing laundry.
"What..." JC fought to get his amusement under control. This whole bondage thing had been his idea and laughing like a spaz probably wasn't the way to encourage Justin to go along with it again. "What the hell are you doing now?"
"I swear, man, do the words 'topping from the bottom' mean anything to you?" Justin tried to glower but the faint blush across his cheekbones sabotaged the effort. "I, uh. Need something for your legs and, um..." He ducked his head and mumbled, "IthoughtI'dlookforanythingelsethatBritforgot." He grinned sheepishly. "I figured, y'know, using her stuff would uh, help exorcise the demon. Hair of the dog, right?"
JC closed his eyes and concentrated on calm, even, cleansing breaths. "Justin. Not that I would do anything to slow down your healing process. But, dude. Dude. Please do not tell me that the reason you have all these nice scarves"--really nice scarves, like the one that Justin was tightening around his left ankle was Hermes, and damn if J hadn't gotten him stretched right to the edge where every muscle on that side of his body was taking notice that hello, this was not going to be your everyday fuck--"that the reason you have all these nice scarves is because you and Britney, and god, I knew you both when you were children, have done this before. In this bed."
"Ok," Justin's voice purred, and when JC's eyes snapped open, the predatory smile on Justin's face bore no resemblance to the open, sheepish grin it had been just seconds before. JC swallowed hard, acutely conscious that he was mostly naked and spread-eagled on a bed, and that Justin didn't look a thing like Lynn now. "I won't tell you that," Justin said, and his eyes pinned JC to the bed with a promise that JC hadn't even known he was allowed to ask for.
"No kids here, C," and no, thought JC, no child could tie down his ankle without breaking eye-contact, never mind that the last restraint was a beadazzled bandana that had to be left over from the No Strings tour, and if JC had thought he'd been stretched out before, he'd been sadly mistaken, because this, this was the fucking razor's edge, right there where the only thing that was keeping him out of a headspace he wasn't totally sure he wanted to visit was the calm certainty in Justin's eyes.
"Breathe, baby."
JC wanted to protest that it wasn't that simple, that it wasn't fair somehow that Justin should have figured out how hot this would make him, but those eyes brooked no disobedience. He forced himself to breathe deeply, ignoring the fluttering panic that insisted that panting was a much better idea.
"Good boy." Justin crawled up the bed, hands stroking slowly up JC's legs, petting him gently, and godgodgod, JC wanted more, and fuck the burn in his muscles, he was arching up into the touch.
Justin laughed softly. "So fucking gorgeous, C," and if JC couldn't see those eyes now, he was still good, because Justin's mouth was right on his ear, whispering, teasing, biting, sucking. "You were right, this is good. But I need to ask you something. Josh. Are you listening?"
JC was, he really was, it was just that words were completely not an option. Then Justin growled a little and bit down hard. JC managed to make some sort of noise that didn't really resemble a word, but thankfully satisfied Justin.
"I want," Justin swallowed hard, and JC had to close his eyes against the hotdangerousdesperate in Justin's. "I need. to mark you." JC stopped breathing for a second while the hoarse, needy whisper rushed on. "Can I? please, can I do that to you?"
JC thought about how young Justin really was, no matter how good a game he talked, and about how unsure Justin had been when JC had first shared this, how nervous he'd been about maybe hurting JC, and that maybe Justin knew that JC wasn't quite as into this as JC thought he was. It was time, JC thought, listening to Justin's uneven breathing, to be sure about what he wanted. And if Justin was asking, JC still hadn't convinced him. One word right now would stop this. If he wanted. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
"Anything," JC whispered, and gave himself over completely. "Anything you want, baby."
The next day, after Justin had to fly out for more promo on the album, JC only had to run his fingers over his hip--and remember Justin's tongue moving over him lightly, right before he'd bitten down hard, sucking and licking, then biting again and again and again, remember Justin buried deep inside him, one hand stroking JC until he'd been screaming to come and the other rubbing hard across the bruise his mouth had made--to know he'd made the right decision.
loosely continued in what you like.
silliness in i asked for what?
what you asked for
all made up
"You're sure about this, C?"
JC wiggled his hand experimentally and smiled as the silk tie knotted around his wrist didn't give at all. Justin might not have been a hundred percent behind the idea, but it was nice to know that the legendary Timberlake attention to detail extended to kinky sex. "Yeah. I'm good. Totally."
Justin bit his lip, but shrugged and reached for JC's other wrist. JC turned his head and watched as Justin carefully looped a very expensive Chanel scarf around the wrist and the bedpost, giving himself a stern warning against laughing at the focused, intent expression on Justin's face. Eleven years of watching that look in mirrored rehearsal studios and Playstation marathons and over soundboards, and it was just fucking surreal to be seeing it in bed. Happy surreal, like the high from the really good shit Chris could always be counted on to score, but nothing that could be grounded in what had been his normal world before he'd woken up one fine hiatus morning to find a serious Justin sitting cross-legged next to him, a Justin who quietly announced that he needed to clear up some things before he dove headlong into his solo album right before he leaned over and kissed JC. JC had gone to sleep that night with six feet of warm, sweaty boy wrapped around him, never having gotten out of bed, and had known his life had changed irrevocably.
He managed to not laugh, but he couldn't help smile from the sheer giddy joy of it all. Justin quirked an eyebrow. "Dude, you're the one who's tied to the bed here, you shouldn't be all that um, happy about it. Right?" JC gave up and snorted with laughter and Justin rolled his eyes as he walked across the room. "Seriously, man, you're at my mercy. Show some respect."
"Right, right, respect." JC composed himself but one look at Justin sorting through a pile of clothes dumped from a drawer set him off again. He couldn't help it; for a second, J looked exactly like Lynn doing laundry.
"What..." JC fought to get his amusement under control. This whole bondage thing had been his idea and laughing like a spaz probably wasn't the way to encourage Justin to go along with it again. "What the hell are you doing now?"
"I swear, man, do the words 'topping from the bottom' mean anything to you?" Justin tried to glower but the faint blush across his cheekbones sabotaged the effort. "I, uh. Need something for your legs and, um..." He ducked his head and mumbled, "IthoughtI'dlookforanythingelsethatBritforgot." He grinned sheepishly. "I figured, y'know, using her stuff would uh, help exorcise the demon. Hair of the dog, right?"
JC closed his eyes and concentrated on calm, even, cleansing breaths. "Justin. Not that I would do anything to slow down your healing process. But, dude. Dude. Please do not tell me that the reason you have all these nice scarves"--really nice scarves, like the one that Justin was tightening around his left ankle was Hermes, and damn if J hadn't gotten him stretched right to the edge where every muscle on that side of his body was taking notice that hello, this was not going to be your everyday fuck--"that the reason you have all these nice scarves is because you and Britney, and god, I knew you both when you were children, have done this before. In this bed."
"Ok," Justin's voice purred, and when JC's eyes snapped open, the predatory smile on Justin's face bore no resemblance to the open, sheepish grin it had been just seconds before. JC swallowed hard, acutely conscious that he was mostly naked and spread-eagled on a bed, and that Justin didn't look a thing like Lynn now. "I won't tell you that," Justin said, and his eyes pinned JC to the bed with a promise that JC hadn't even known he was allowed to ask for.
"No kids here, C," and no, thought JC, no child could tie down his ankle without breaking eye-contact, never mind that the last restraint was a beadazzled bandana that had to be left over from the No Strings tour, and if JC had thought he'd been stretched out before, he'd been sadly mistaken, because this, this was the fucking razor's edge, right there where the only thing that was keeping him out of a headspace he wasn't totally sure he wanted to visit was the calm certainty in Justin's eyes.
"Breathe, baby."
JC wanted to protest that it wasn't that simple, that it wasn't fair somehow that Justin should have figured out how hot this would make him, but those eyes brooked no disobedience. He forced himself to breathe deeply, ignoring the fluttering panic that insisted that panting was a much better idea.
"Good boy." Justin crawled up the bed, hands stroking slowly up JC's legs, petting him gently, and godgodgod, JC wanted more, and fuck the burn in his muscles, he was arching up into the touch.
Justin laughed softly. "So fucking gorgeous, C," and if JC couldn't see those eyes now, he was still good, because Justin's mouth was right on his ear, whispering, teasing, biting, sucking. "You were right, this is good. But I need to ask you something. Josh. Are you listening?"
JC was, he really was, it was just that words were completely not an option. Then Justin growled a little and bit down hard. JC managed to make some sort of noise that didn't really resemble a word, but thankfully satisfied Justin.
"I want," Justin swallowed hard, and JC had to close his eyes against the hotdangerousdesperate in Justin's. "I need. to mark you." JC stopped breathing for a second while the hoarse, needy whisper rushed on. "Can I? please, can I do that to you?"
JC thought about how young Justin really was, no matter how good a game he talked, and about how unsure Justin had been when JC had first shared this, how nervous he'd been about maybe hurting JC, and that maybe Justin knew that JC wasn't quite as into this as JC thought he was. It was time, JC thought, listening to Justin's uneven breathing, to be sure about what he wanted. And if Justin was asking, JC still hadn't convinced him. One word right now would stop this. If he wanted. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
"Anything," JC whispered, and gave himself over completely. "Anything you want, baby."
The next day, after Justin had to fly out for more promo on the album, JC only had to run his fingers over his hip--and remember Justin's tongue moving over him lightly, right before he'd bitten down hard, sucking and licking, then biting again and again and again, remember Justin buried deep inside him, one hand stroking JC until he'd been screaming to come and the other rubbing hard across the bruise his mouth had made--to know he'd made the right decision.
loosely continued in what you like.
silliness in i asked for what?
no subject
no subject