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Title: Mama's Boy
Author: Jules
Part: 1/1
Pairing: Lambs
Rating: NC-17ish? Maybe R
Disclaimer: Fiction for
entertainment purposes. I am not saying this happened... Just
saying I wish
Warning: Slash warning
There isn't much
that he wouldn't do, wouldn't try at least once. If the offer was
just right, there are things that he wouldn't bat an eyelash while
agreeing to do them. He has never backed down from a dare, and
never wimped out when challenged. Justin has lived the majority
of his life living on the edge, and he has decided that he really
enjoys it there. Walking a thin line between safety and Öthe
opposite of safety. Rebellion? Yeah, he walks a fine line
between safety and rebellion, and looking at what his carefree attitude
has gotten him in the past, he's loved every minute of it. Justin
is his own person.
He's a
ëcocky motherfucker'. At least that's what his closest
friends call him, which truth be told is on the more polite side
compared to what the rest of the world says about him. He knows
he's cocky, and he knows he's egotistical, but in the music industry
you have to be or they'll eat you alive. If you don't take care
of yourself, no one is going to do it for you and Justin wanted to be
taken care of. He vowed the moment he realized his potential that
he was going to be the best, the best at everything he did, and if he
wasn't the best, well then he was going to work on it until he
was. It had worked pretty good so far, Justin wasn't complaining.
At one point in
time they were one of the biggest groups in the world, surpassing
pretty much everyone else. Of course, there was also Backstreet,
but Justin couldn't fault them for being up there too. The market
was just creaming for something new, and that something new happened to
be boybands. Justin was man enough to admit it, they were a
boyband. He didn't see any shame in something that was
fulfilling every single dream he had ever had as a child. With
each performance, each new single and video, each appearance, they were
getting bigger and bigger. Justin was becoming more and more
famous, perfecting his craft.
Now, the group
is on hiatus but he's still working just as hard. Only now, he's
on his own. He doesn't have the other five there for support, not
like he used to. Where before, they were a collective unit, five
parts of a whole, now he's alone. He's Justin Timberlake, not
Justin from NSYNC. It's a completely different ballgame. As
frightening as it was to branch out on his own, even for a short period
of time, it was something he needed to do. Wanted to do.
Had to do to prove to himself. He knew what he could do when he
was supported by his four best friends, but it was time for him to step
up to the mic and see if he could do it alone. He's pretty proud
of his efforts so far. It's almost been a year since Justified
was released and it's still on the charts. Each new single that
he releases does better than the one before, and his joint tour with
Christina was phenomenal.
Justin is on top
of the world.
As if there was
any other place for him.
He doesn't feel
regret that Nick's solo attempt wasn't as successful. It has
nothing to do with him. There is animosity between them, but not
for the reasons people assume there are. Neither care how many
CDS the other sold, neither care how many magazine covers the other
has. It was never about that. It was about something so
petty that Justin is almost embarrassed to admit what it is, so he
doesn't. He's vaguely mysterious about why he harbours resentment
towards the blonde, and even more mysteriously vague about why Nick
harbours resentment towards him. It's personal and nobody's
business but their own.
He won't admit
it, but he's secretly happy that he and Nick have this big secret
between them. It's something that's theirs and theirs alone. His
band mates don't know the truth, nor does Backstreet. All they
know is that no amount of threatening, pleading and cajoling will get
either of them to reveal what it is. It's none of their fucking
business.
They're at a
party, some private party that someone important is throwing.
Justin figures they can't be THAT important if he doesn't know who it
is. Or he did know but can't remember, which is just as
bad. The reality of it is that Justin couldn't give a fuck whose
party it is. All he knows is that the booze is free flowing and
there are endless possibilities everywhere. He discreetly leers
as a server walks by, pants impossibly tight in the ass, outlining the
curve to perfection. There's a throb in his own pants and Justin
grins, it's time he started partying.
He knows that
three fifths of his group is in attendance tonight. JC is there,
pumping his new CD to everyone and Lance is around too. He hasn't
seen Lance since he arrived, but as he turns to look towards the bar,
he hears a low rumble of a laugh and would recognize the sound
anywhere. Lance is by the patio doors. There is a fraction
of a second where Justin considers forgoing the drink and heading over
to the corner, but shakes it off. He needs the beer more than he
needs to talk to Lance. And from the sounds of it, he's not
missed all too much at the moment anyways. He weaves his
way through the crowd ducking every few feet. It's amazing how
for so long he'd always laughed at the guys when they'd go to parties
and were dodging being in eyesight of exes, or at the very least,
people they'd fucked. It happened to Joey and JC a lot more than
anyone, but Justin had always teased them about it, how they couldn't
go anywhere without running into someone they'd seen naked. He'd
been with Britney for the better part of his career and during that
time, had only been with her, hence his failure to be able to
sympathize with the two men. But as he paused and pretended to
look the other way, he knew exactly how they felt.
Still, if he
weren't himself, he'd still probably be laughing.
It seemed that
every single person he'd hooked up with since his breakup with Britney
was in that room at that very second. He could see Alyssa sitting
on one of the couches, her hand blatantly in some guy's lap. He
felt his cock twitch in memory of it being HIS lap her hand had once
been resting on. If he turned his head a few degrees to the left,
he could see Cameron cozying up to Drew Barrymore, making Justin
suspicious that his thoughts on the two of them weren't just
speculation. And without having to move all too much, he could
see at least three other people he'd slept with in the past few
months. Justin couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the
whole situation, figuring that if he worried about every single person
he'd fucked in the recent past, he'd never get his drink.
"Heinekin
please," he says while leaning in too close to the
bartender. She's hot and practically bursting out of the too
tight white blouse that's cut dangerously low. She licks her lips
and nods. She turns to grab his requested beer and presents it to
him, her eyes locked on his.
He smiles and
downs half of it in one gulp, wondering if she'd be willing to take a
break with him in the bathroom upstairs. Judging from the hunger
in her own eyes, he doesn't think she'd object.
"You are such a
fucking whore," a voice breathes into his ear and he moves away
quickly. He would know that whisper anywhere and fights to
compose himself before turning around.
"Excuse
me? Coming from the King of Whores himself?" Justin waited
before turning to face the blonde behind him. "Nickolas, it's so
good to see you."
Nick merely
cocks his eyebrow and smirks, they both know this game very well at
this point. There's no need to deviate from the plan as it's
worked so well for so long. He crosses his arms over his chest
and merely stares.
"What, you
aren't going to say the same back?"
"What? And
lie? I'm not as good as it as you are. And there's a
difference between my being a whore and you being a whore."
"Which
is?" Justin would hate to admit it, but he finds that he enjoys
this banter between the two of them. It's one of the only real things
in his life. He's dying to hear this analogy.
"Well, I've
always been one, you were always just a sheep in wolf's clothing."
Justin cocks his
head to the side, wondering if Nick realizes his mistake.
He hasn't, made
the mistake anyways. Nick knows exactly what he's trying to say
and grins at Justin's confusion.
"Yes, a sheep in
wolf's clothing. You pretend that you're this player but you're
not. You want to be, you're trying but it doesn't suit you.
You're nothing but a mama's boy and Öwell that's not ever gonna
change Timberlake."
Justin wants to
be angry but he can't. He knows Nick's right and the worst part
is that Nick knows he knows he's right. "Fuck you."
Nick gives him
the once over. "Thanks but no thanks. You're not my
type. I don't fuck mama's boys who can't be in the same room with
his last five one night stands and not be embarrassed about it.
Come see me in a year and maybe I'll consider it."
Now Justin's
confused, because if Nick isn't there to coax him into sleeping with
him, then he doesn't know why he's there. And the one thing
Justin hates is being confused. Okay, it's the second thing that
Justin hates right now because the first is the smug look on Nick's
face, telling him that the blonde knows he's got the upper hand and is
going to use it to his advantage. "Offer might not be standing
then."
Nick shrugs as
if he doesn't care either way, and Justin has to wonder if it's an act
or he just doesn't care. It's not like Nick doesn't have a list a
mile long full of people who would fuck him in an instant. And
he's just Justin Timberlake, which doesn't impress Nick at all.
It takes a lot to impress Nick Carter, he should know because it's the
same way with him. Justin needs another beer. He orders
one, failing to ask if Nick wants something because he just doesn't
care and it's not like Nick can't order his own drink. It's open
bar and Justin's not his mama so he doesn't have to make sure that he's
looked after.
That beer goes
down just as quickly and smoothly as the first. They are silent
until the third beer is ordered and Nick lightly pinches his elbow,
signaling for him to follow. It's against his better judgement
but at the moment Justin can't think of a reason why not to follow him,
so he goes, curious as to what Nick wants to say to him that can't be
said at the bar.
They head to a
darkened corner and Nick props himself up against the wall, staring at
the people in the room. Justin takes one look into Nick's eyes
and knows exactly what's coming. He doesn't know why he didn't
figure it out before and prepares himself for yet another aspect of the
game they've been playing. It's only been recently that the game
has gotten more involved, since his break up with Britney, but for the
most part they've been playing for years. If he remembers
correct, it's his turn. Nick had gone last time and Justin can
still see the look of surprise and awe on Ashley Angel's face when Nick
had slid in behind him whispering seductive and tempting words into his
ears. Surprisingly, Nick had actually had to work to get Ashley,
but like Justin knew he would, the blonde was successful. He
can't remember a night that Nick hadn't been victorious. "Okay,
give me your best shot."
Nick licks his
lips and surveys the room with more intent this time. He wasn't
sure if Justin was going to participate and had fully expected him to
turn the game down. His eyes settled on someone by the sliding
glass doors and he grinned. He had the victim for the night, and
the rules were that you couldn't say no. If you did, it was cause
for immediate failure, and neither man liked to fail. "You sure?"
Justin's eyes
narrow suspiciously, Nick's up to something. He feels his stomach
churn nervously and swallows thickly. "Yes."
"Him."
Nick points in the direction of Justin's conquest for the night, his
lip curled just like so. There's no mistaking who he's referring
to.
"You've got to
be fucking kidding me!"
Nick's face is a
mask of innocence, contradicting everything about him.
"What? He's not on the ësafe list'. I can pick
him." The safe list was a list of a few people that they couldn't
pick. It was respected that although it was a game, there were
certain boundaries that weren't to be crossed.
"ButÖ"
"But what
J? Either you do it or you don't. Don't mean a thing to me
either way."
The tone in
Nick's voice grated on Justin's last nerve and he downed the remainder
of his beer. His eyes fluttered shut in an effort to give him
courage and he turned to face Nick, eyes narrowed and
seething. "Fine fucker, but you better remember this
when it's your turn."
"Bring it on
pussy boy."
Justin waits a
few minutes before heading across the room, Nick a few feet
behind. When he approaches the small group of people he flashes
his trademark grin and slides into an open space. He can see Nick
through his peripheral, listening intently.
"Hey, Justin,
what's up?"
"Uhhh, not
much. Just taking a breather you know." His fingers run
through his hair nervously and he fidgets with his other hand. It
takes a few minutes but the people that were there all disperse to
other areas of the room, leaving Justin with his conquest. "So,
having a good time Lance?" He watches Lance shrug and roll his
eyes.
"Same shit, you
know."
Justin nods, he
knows. If anything, at that moment he knows. "So.
You're looking really good tonight." Justin lets his fingers
trail up and down Lance's now muscular arms, leaving no room for
misunderstanding as to what his intentions are. Their eyes meet
and Justin can see amusement in Lance's gaze.
"Thanks J.
Some new threads. You look good too."
Justin knows he
can't take things too far here, so he has to get Lance to understand
exactly what he's hinting at very subtly. Once they are in a more
private location he can try and seduce him more, but for right now he
was limited. "Thanks. But you look Öreally
good." He leans down to whisper it in Lance's ear and smiles at
the shiver it elicits.
"You think
so?" Lance questions, looking down at himself before back up at
his younger bandmate.
"Fuck
yeah." And Justin does think Lance looks good. Absolutely
fuckable, which considering what's hopefully going to happen, is
appropriate. "I was thinking maybe we could Ödiscuss it more
somewhere else." Lance appears to think about it for a few
seconds before giving a slight nod.
"We could do
that."
Justin throws a
quick glance over his shoulder and smirks at Nick, who looks
surprised. As if he couldn't do it. He's Justin Timberlake,
all it takes is the suggestion to go somewhere else and they were on
their feet, ready and willing. Lance's hand is hot on Justin's
back and they make their way to the cloak room, stopping to chat with
people along the way. They pass Nick and Justin only smirks and
flashes him a wink, Nick doesn't deserve much more than that. He
barely hears ëholy fuck', as Nick watches with his mouth slightly
gaping.
Justin has just
won this round, as if there was any doubt.
It takes less
than five minutes for their coats to be found and the two of them
heading into the dark night. The car will be waiting by the gates
and the walk will do them both some good to clear their minds a
little. "So," Lance says, his voice loud in the quiet air.
"So."
Justin looks behind them to make sure that they aren't being
followed. Where they are right now is pretty secluded and no one
can see them, so he leans in and kisses Lance hungrily, like he's been
wanting to all night. Their tongues work furiously and as Justin
feels Lance's hands on his ass, his own are tangled in dark, gelled
hair. He can't believe he's waited so long to be able to do this
and now that he has the opportunity he is going to make it last as long
as he can.
It isn't until
they're gasping for air that they break away, chests heaving and lips
swollen. "'Bout fucking time Justin." Lance said, pulling
Justin in again, this time his kisses tender and sweet."
"I was on my way
over when Carter stopped me. Fucking ass. He's in a playful
mood tonight." He raises his eyebrow so that Lance can understand
exactly what he's referring to, when the older man chuckles Justin nods.
"Are you
serious? He pickedÖ"
"You. Of
all people, he picked you."
"Can he do that?"
Justin
nods. "You're not on my safe list. So he can pick anyone,
he chose you."
Lance laughs
harder and climbs into the limo that's pulled up to the sidewalk.
Justin follows him in and settles against the seat. "So I'm
supposed to be seducing you right now. Trying to convince you to
sleep with me." Justin's lips have curled into a grin and his
hands are clasped on his lap, idle.
"So convince
away Mr. Timberlake." Lance is sitting across from him in the
limo, but they both know it won't be for too long. Slowly,
Justin's fingers detangle themselves and he moves his hands to the
button on his pants. With gentle precision, he undoes his pants
and shimmies his hips so that they're down to his thighs. He's
forgone underwear tonight because the pants were too tight, and right
now his naked erection is being hidden by his dress shirt. Lance
still hasn't moved and Justin knows what he's waiting for. He
lifts the shirt to reveal his throbbing, massive erection, settling his
hands back down on his stomach. Lance licks his lips and giggles.
"Well done."
"I know."
It doesn't take
Lance long to be on his knees between Justin's legs which are spread
wantonly. He swallows Justin without any difficulty, which is
impressive considering Justin's size. One hand is on Justin's
balls, rolling and stroking them while the other is jerking the base of
his shaft as his mouth is alternating between licking and
sucking. It doesn't take him long to reach his threshold because
it's been too long and Lance has always been that fucking good.
With a tug on Lance's hair, a loud howl and clenched toes, Justin cums
swiftly, trembling. Lance waits until the last of his orgasm has
passed and pulls off, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.
"Good?"
Justin rolls his
eyes and pulls Lance up, licking at his lips which are still wet from
his cum. "You know you're the fucking best, yet still you always
ask."
"I just like to
hear the great Justin Timberlake tell me what a good cocksucker I am."
"You are.
Fucking pro babe." They kiss as Lance settles himself on Justin's
lap, not bothering to tuck his now limp cock away.
"So, when Nick
picked me, I'm assuming you didn't tell him." Lance has idly
began stroking Justin, enjoying the feel of his flaccid penis in his
hand. There was just something about having the liberty to fondle
one of the hottest men in the world at your leisure that turned Lance
on to no end.
Justin's hand in
turn moved to the bulge in Lance's leather pants, rubbing him in
return. "Why would I do that? He didn't ask."
"You are so bad."
"Just how you
like me, ain't that right baby?"
Justin allowed
Lance to start them off on another passionate kiss as their hands once
again began to explore. It wasn't as if he'd lied to the blonde,
he just failed to advise him of some pertinent information. He
couldn't help it if Nick assumed that he and Lance had never been
together before. It wasn't his fault that Nick had been deaf to
the rumours that had been going on for the past four or five years that
he and Lance had been on again off again lovers. And he wasn't
going to point out that this had been the easiest round to play,
especially when he and Lance were already going to be leaving together,
to do exactly what Nick had challenged him to do.
Instead, Justin
did what he always did to people who underestimated him, he played the
sweet little mama's boy that did no wrong. There was only one
person in the world that knew the real Justin, that understood every
single aspect of who he was compared to who they wanted him to
be. And that person was currently nibbling on his lips, stroking
his quickly reviving erection, and whispering in his ear how badly he
wanted Justin to fuck him. Lance understood because he was a
mamaís boy too, and they had to stick together.
Finis
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