Fic: "Static" | JC Chasez/Justin Timberlake
Title: "Static"
Pairing: JC Chasez/Justin Timberlake
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 1,203
Notes: Not much to be had in the way of plot-just a little something that popped into my head as I was driving to Christmas festivities, and then didn't leave. Many thanks to Dinah for the beta and requisite hand-holding. "I can't believe that I am thirty and betaing NSYNC slash for you." Believe it-and thank you again, my dear.
Summary: Absence makes the heart grow fonder-and leads to phone sex, naturally. Set shortly post-hiatus.
Read it @AO3, or click the cut below.
"JC? Did I wake you?"
Justin's voice was hushed and cautious, and JC blinked in the darkness. It was late, and he was in bed, drifting and fuzzy, but he hadn't been asleep.
"No, no, I'm up." He rolled over, cradling the phone against his ear. "Hi."
“Hi,” Justin echoed. “Where are you?” He sounded unsure of himself, which was rare, but JC figured that not talking to your boyfriend for over a month could make it a little awkward when you finally reconnected.
“Still in Orlando.”
It was weird to realize that Justin didn’t even know this basic piece of information, but come to think of it, he couldn’t say with perfect certainty where Justin was, either.
“Shit. Sorry, man,” Justin apologized. “It’s fucking late there.”
They hadn’t called and had only exchanged a handful of text messages in the five weeks since NSYNC went on hiatus, pretty much the bare minimum in terms of communication for two people who were still in a relationship. They hadn’t even been interesting or informative texts, now that JC thought about it. No wonder neither of them had a clue what was going on.
“No, it’s okay. What’s going on?” JC asked, making an effort to sound friendly and pleasant. Justin had made the effort to call, after all, which was more than JC could say for himself.
“I’m in LA.”
It wasn’t even like they’d been fighting, or anything. It was just the grind of it all, the general weariness and petty disagreements and minor annoyances that were inevitable when every aspect of your life-personal, professional, romantic-was endlessly tangled with someone else’s.
The group had been ready for a big-time break, but JC and Justin had needed some space from each other, too, and they’d left for opposite coasts without a lot of discussion or analysis.
“Been in the studio yet?”
“Not yet. I mean, I will soon, I want to, but-” He paused, and JC heard him take a breath.
The distance had done wonders for JC’s frayed nerves, but it had also been weird and unfamiliar to be separated from Justin like that. He was glad, now, that Justin had called.
“I’m not really thinking about that right now,” Justin continued, and he was starting to sound more like himself and less like he expected JC to yell at him. “I’ve been thinking about other things. Recently.”
“Other things?”
“Yes. I was thinking about you and me. About...us.” There was a velvety quality creeping into Justin’s voice now, a particular breathless edge that JC recognized immediately.
He sat up in bed. “Are you touching yourself, J?”
Justin sighed into the phone, slow and deliberate. “Yes.”
JC adjusted the pillows behind him and lay back down, hooking a thumb in the waistband of his shorts and tugging them past his hips.
“Tell me what you’re doing, baby.”
“Fingers,” Justin breathed. “Inside me.”
JC moaned softly and reached for his cock. He was stiff and hot already; it had never taken much, with Justin. “How many?”
“Two. Oh god, JC. I’m so tight for you, honey.”
JC moaned again and worked himself over, long strokes up the length, fingertips toying with the head.
“Are you hard?” Justin asked. “Are you jacking off?”
“Yeah.”
“Good,” Justin whispered, and then he groaned. “Fuck, I need it. I need to get fucked so bad.”
JC’s cock jerked in his hand, moisture seeping from the tip. “How do you want it, baby? Do you want it on your back, legs wrapped around me? We can make out the whole time, do it nice and slow.”
Justin moaned, and when he didn’t say anything, JC kept going.
“Or maybe you’d rather do it on your hands and knees, let me fuck you from behind? You take it so deep like that.”
Justin groaned. “Anything, whatever you want.” There was some rustling, and the timbre and resonance of the call changed suddenly as Justin put him on speakerphone. “How do you want it, JC?”
JC smiled, knowing that Justin was going at it with both hands now. “All night long. I don’t even care how we do it, J. I just know that once won’t be enough.”
“Oh god, please,” Justin gasped, and he was getting louder now, panting, moaning, whining low in his throat- the full spectrum of sounds he made when he was feeling really good. JC loved listening to him, something that JC knew Justin knew very well.
“You make me insane,” JC breathed, and Justin managed a ragged laugh.
“You close, baby?”
JC could only hum in response, cycling through a series of images in his head. The curve of Justin’s mouth around JC’s cock. The measured press of Justin’s fingers as he pushed them inside himself. The long, arched line of Justin’s back, the freckles on his shoulders, the whorls of curls at the nape of his neck.
Then Justin was practically sobbing his name, and JC knew exactly what it would feel like to be fucking him at that moment, hot and slick and perfect, Justin’s body drawing tight around him as he came.
“Do it, JC,” Justin begged, and JC did.
“Fuck, Justin,” he gasped, shaking with the achy, desperate pleasure of it. Wetness spread over his fingers and the palm of his hand, and he could still hear Justin, murmuring his name in his ear until he was completely spent.
They were both breathing hard, blowing static through the phone, and JC didn’t want to move.
“How’re you doing?” he finally asked.
“Kind of awesome,” Justin said. He sighed, and JC could picture the slow, lazy stretch that accompanied it. “I wish I was lying here with your cock still inside me, though.”
Justin’s words sent one last shiver through JC’s body, his toes curling briefly against the sheets. They were never in a rush to disentangle themselves after sex; they both liked to linger.
“I’d like that, too.”
They lapsed into silence again, which JC could only stand for so long. It still wasn’t completely comfortable.
“I miss you,” he offered.
“I miss you, too,” Justin replied without hesitation, and then he laughed, a relieved but still very gorgeous laugh that tugged at JC’s heart. “I want to see you. Can I come see you?”
JC smiled. “Sure. Whenever, J. Come tomorrow, if you can swing it.”
Justin exhaled. “Yeah,” he said, and JC could hear the happiness in his voice. “Yeah, I can totally do that.”
The words smoothed away the last bit of low-grade separation anxiety, and JC wasn’t sure what to call it-perspective, maybe-but the time apart from Justin, and reconnecting with him now, had clarified a couple of things in his mind. It was reassuring to confirm that he still wanted Justin, and that Justin still wanted him. It was also a relief to know that for the foreseeable future, he and Justin could be together without the NSYNC pressure cooker as a constant backdrop that drove them both to periodic bouts of exhaustion and tension and irritability. There would be different challenges now, but JC and Justin had always been adaptable.
And JC was really, really glad that Justin had called.
Pairing: JC Chasez/Justin Timberlake
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 1,203
Notes: Not much to be had in the way of plot-just a little something that popped into my head as I was driving to Christmas festivities, and then didn't leave. Many thanks to Dinah for the beta and requisite hand-holding. "I can't believe that I am thirty and betaing NSYNC slash for you." Believe it-and thank you again, my dear.
Summary: Absence makes the heart grow fonder-and leads to phone sex, naturally. Set shortly post-hiatus.
Read it @AO3, or click the cut below.
"JC? Did I wake you?"
Justin's voice was hushed and cautious, and JC blinked in the darkness. It was late, and he was in bed, drifting and fuzzy, but he hadn't been asleep.
"No, no, I'm up." He rolled over, cradling the phone against his ear. "Hi."
“Hi,” Justin echoed. “Where are you?” He sounded unsure of himself, which was rare, but JC figured that not talking to your boyfriend for over a month could make it a little awkward when you finally reconnected.
“Still in Orlando.”
It was weird to realize that Justin didn’t even know this basic piece of information, but come to think of it, he couldn’t say with perfect certainty where Justin was, either.
“Shit. Sorry, man,” Justin apologized. “It’s fucking late there.”
They hadn’t called and had only exchanged a handful of text messages in the five weeks since NSYNC went on hiatus, pretty much the bare minimum in terms of communication for two people who were still in a relationship. They hadn’t even been interesting or informative texts, now that JC thought about it. No wonder neither of them had a clue what was going on.
“No, it’s okay. What’s going on?” JC asked, making an effort to sound friendly and pleasant. Justin had made the effort to call, after all, which was more than JC could say for himself.
“I’m in LA.”
It wasn’t even like they’d been fighting, or anything. It was just the grind of it all, the general weariness and petty disagreements and minor annoyances that were inevitable when every aspect of your life-personal, professional, romantic-was endlessly tangled with someone else’s.
The group had been ready for a big-time break, but JC and Justin had needed some space from each other, too, and they’d left for opposite coasts without a lot of discussion or analysis.
“Been in the studio yet?”
“Not yet. I mean, I will soon, I want to, but-” He paused, and JC heard him take a breath.
The distance had done wonders for JC’s frayed nerves, but it had also been weird and unfamiliar to be separated from Justin like that. He was glad, now, that Justin had called.
“I’m not really thinking about that right now,” Justin continued, and he was starting to sound more like himself and less like he expected JC to yell at him. “I’ve been thinking about other things. Recently.”
“Other things?”
“Yes. I was thinking about you and me. About...us.” There was a velvety quality creeping into Justin’s voice now, a particular breathless edge that JC recognized immediately.
He sat up in bed. “Are you touching yourself, J?”
Justin sighed into the phone, slow and deliberate. “Yes.”
JC adjusted the pillows behind him and lay back down, hooking a thumb in the waistband of his shorts and tugging them past his hips.
“Tell me what you’re doing, baby.”
“Fingers,” Justin breathed. “Inside me.”
JC moaned softly and reached for his cock. He was stiff and hot already; it had never taken much, with Justin. “How many?”
“Two. Oh god, JC. I’m so tight for you, honey.”
JC moaned again and worked himself over, long strokes up the length, fingertips toying with the head.
“Are you hard?” Justin asked. “Are you jacking off?”
“Yeah.”
“Good,” Justin whispered, and then he groaned. “Fuck, I need it. I need to get fucked so bad.”
JC’s cock jerked in his hand, moisture seeping from the tip. “How do you want it, baby? Do you want it on your back, legs wrapped around me? We can make out the whole time, do it nice and slow.”
Justin moaned, and when he didn’t say anything, JC kept going.
“Or maybe you’d rather do it on your hands and knees, let me fuck you from behind? You take it so deep like that.”
Justin groaned. “Anything, whatever you want.” There was some rustling, and the timbre and resonance of the call changed suddenly as Justin put him on speakerphone. “How do you want it, JC?”
JC smiled, knowing that Justin was going at it with both hands now. “All night long. I don’t even care how we do it, J. I just know that once won’t be enough.”
“Oh god, please,” Justin gasped, and he was getting louder now, panting, moaning, whining low in his throat- the full spectrum of sounds he made when he was feeling really good. JC loved listening to him, something that JC knew Justin knew very well.
“You make me insane,” JC breathed, and Justin managed a ragged laugh.
“You close, baby?”
JC could only hum in response, cycling through a series of images in his head. The curve of Justin’s mouth around JC’s cock. The measured press of Justin’s fingers as he pushed them inside himself. The long, arched line of Justin’s back, the freckles on his shoulders, the whorls of curls at the nape of his neck.
Then Justin was practically sobbing his name, and JC knew exactly what it would feel like to be fucking him at that moment, hot and slick and perfect, Justin’s body drawing tight around him as he came.
“Do it, JC,” Justin begged, and JC did.
“Fuck, Justin,” he gasped, shaking with the achy, desperate pleasure of it. Wetness spread over his fingers and the palm of his hand, and he could still hear Justin, murmuring his name in his ear until he was completely spent.
They were both breathing hard, blowing static through the phone, and JC didn’t want to move.
“How’re you doing?” he finally asked.
“Kind of awesome,” Justin said. He sighed, and JC could picture the slow, lazy stretch that accompanied it. “I wish I was lying here with your cock still inside me, though.”
Justin’s words sent one last shiver through JC’s body, his toes curling briefly against the sheets. They were never in a rush to disentangle themselves after sex; they both liked to linger.
“I’d like that, too.”
They lapsed into silence again, which JC could only stand for so long. It still wasn’t completely comfortable.
“I miss you,” he offered.
“I miss you, too,” Justin replied without hesitation, and then he laughed, a relieved but still very gorgeous laugh that tugged at JC’s heart. “I want to see you. Can I come see you?”
JC smiled. “Sure. Whenever, J. Come tomorrow, if you can swing it.”
Justin exhaled. “Yeah,” he said, and JC could hear the happiness in his voice. “Yeah, I can totally do that.”
The words smoothed away the last bit of low-grade separation anxiety, and JC wasn’t sure what to call it-perspective, maybe-but the time apart from Justin, and reconnecting with him now, had clarified a couple of things in his mind. It was reassuring to confirm that he still wanted Justin, and that Justin still wanted him. It was also a relief to know that for the foreseeable future, he and Justin could be together without the NSYNC pressure cooker as a constant backdrop that drove them both to periodic bouts of exhaustion and tension and irritability. There would be different challenges now, but JC and Justin had always been adaptable.
And JC was really, really glad that Justin had called.