Justin winced at himself in the mirror. He looked ridiculous. And nervous, because he, more than anyone, knew that he wasn't the only hot, blond, barely-legal popstar out there, and maybe this whole thing was AJ's way of subtly clueing him in that Justin wasn't even his first choice.
He'd already been in the bathroom for nearly two hours, getting ready. He could probably stay in there a little longer, just until he felt a bit more comfortable. Like, forever. But AJ was waiting for him back in the hotel room, no doubt impatiently, so Justin grimaced at his reflection, adjusted his hem one last time, and opened the bathroom door.
The TV was on--Animal Planet or something blaring in the background--but AJ grabbed the remote and clicked it off as soon as he saw Justin in the open door.
"Looking good, Timberlake," he said. The tone was deliberately casual. His eyes, though, were heavy and dark as they scanned over Justin's body.
Justin blushed under the scrutiny. He took a couple of steps into the room, then drew up short, uncertain. AJ shook his head at him easily, still leaning back against the headboard. "Come here," he said, holding a hand out to him, "I want to see this up close."
Given permission, Justin walked over to the bed, staring at the floor rather than look into AJ's unreadable eyes. AJ took his hand and squeezed it. With his other hand he tapped Justin's chin, forcing him to look up.
"You have no idea how fucking incredible you look, do you?" AJ asked.
Justin shook his head. He wanted to know. He wanted AJ to tell him so that he could stop feeling stupid and start feeling sexy.
"So hot, baby," AJ murmured. His hand trailed down Justin's chest, skimming almost accidentally over one nipple. "Beautiful." His thumb brushed more deliberately over the nipple, now peaked against the starched white cotton of the shirt. The hand slid further down to caress Justin's flat stomach. "Prettiest piece of ass in America." He grasped Justin's hips and pulled him forward so that he could nuzzle at the inch of exposed skin at his waist. His tongue dipped into Justin's bellybutton, and Justin gasped. AJ scraped one fingernail teasingly just above the woolen waistband.
"Fucking gorgeous legs. You were made to wear short skirts." Justin blushed hotter, but when he looked down AJ was watching him with honest appreciation.
He gazed back at AJ, trying to focus on anything beyond the haze of his own embarrassment. The thin ribbed tank clung to AJ's slinky body. Justin noticed for the first time that AJ was wearing khakis, slung low on his slim hips, and almost smiled, except that it really wasn't funny.
It should have been ridiculous--two prep school-clad popstars about to have sex in another anonymous hotel room--and yet somehow it wasn't. Because AJ looked as though he honestly didn't realize that his clothes made him part of the scene. Dark tattoos bled down his arms, perfectly groomed facial hair sharpened his even features. He was the rebel in sheep's clothing, while Justin...well, Justin was pretty much what he appeared to be. He was the scene, and AJ just owned it. Owned him.
AJ tugged on his wrist and pulled him down onto the bed, lying facedown across AJ's thighs, his legs dangling off the edge of the bed. He scuffed his shoes against the rug, then stopped, embarrassed at feeling like a teenaged girl. Even though he supposed that was the point.
AJ rubbed one hand soothingly at the small of his back. "This okay?" he asked. "You want this?" He never assumed that if Justin were okay with something once he'd be okay with it a second time. Sometimes Justin really appreciated that, while at other times it made him feel insecure, as though he weren't permanent enough to be taken for granted.
But he did want it, always wanted it, wanted anything AJ would give him. He nodded, then sucked in a breath as AJ's hand came down sharply on his raised ass.
It was a stupid cliche, naughty schoolgirl gets spanked, but that didn't keep Justin from pushing his hips back into AJ's heavy hand, whimpering as each smack pressed his cock harder into AJ's lap. All of the other times AJ had spanked him, Justin had been naked. It was shocking how much hotter it made it to feel the scratchy wool skirt against his warmed and stinging flesh. By this point he couldn't even separate sexual heat from the more conventional kind, the burning of his ass and the prickly warmth of arousal down his arms and along his thighs and at the small of his back all blending together into a miasma of uncomfortable pleasure. He could feel his face turning bright red. He hoped he was still pretty enough, anyway.
When he stopped arching into AJ's touch and just lay there, whimpering with each additional stroke, AJ stilled his hand and curled it gently over the curve of Justin's ass. "Beautiful," he whispered, stroking Justin's side.
AJ's cock was an insistent pressure beneath Justin, and he gasped when Justin squirmed against it. "Ready for round two already?" he asked, chuckling, and scooted towards the center of the bed, casually stripping off his white tank and khakis. He was naked underneath. Justin scrambled to follow him.
"Shoes, babe," AJ reminded him, and Justin twisted around to pull off the black patent leather shoes and white knee-high socks.
There were lube and a condom on the bedside table, and AJ reached out to snag them, handing them to Justin before pulling him down for a kiss. AJ's mouth curved soft and welcoming beneath his own. Justin nuzzled AJ's nose, feeling like an overeager puppy and yet unable to make himself stop. He just wanted to soak up every bit of love and affection that he could--even if it were stolen--before it was finally taken away.
Even as he was thinking that, AJ pushed him gently back by the shoulders. Justin allowed AJ to pull him into position straddling AJ's body, his thighs straining to keep himself balanced just above AJ's flat stomach. He reached around to smooth the condom down over AJ's erection and slicked it up with lube. AJ trembled violently, but by the time Justin had turned around again he'd regained control of himself, lying almost unresponsive beneath him, dark eyes staring impassively at Justin's face. Justin patted AJ's stomach anyway, the ridged muscles a familiar comfort in spite of the distance in AJ's eyes.
AJ pulled the tube of lubricant out of Justin's hand and squeezed some onto his fingers, then snaked his hand beneath Justin's skirt and between his legs. The dollop of lube felt ice-cold against Justin's hot ass. One long finger slid inside of him, and Justin pressed back against it, gasping.
By the time AJ was twisting two fingers inside of him, Justin was squirming helplessly against his hand, desperate to be fucked. AJ's free hand unbuttoned the top three buttons of Justin's shirt and tugged it open a bit. He patted Justin's newly exposed skin.
"Tramp," he said, smiling wolfishly when Justin's eyes fluttered open to stare down at him, and pinched a nipple between his fingers. Justin groaned. AJ just laughed.
His fingers slipped free of Justin's ass, and, before Justin could protest, he'd shoved a thick layer of fabric out of the way and slid his cock into Justin's body with one slow push. He let Justin relax around him for a second, and then urged him into a rhythm of deep, steady thrusts. Justin could feel the silky skin of his legs as he raised and lowered himself on AJ's cock, his calves clamped firmly around AJ's ribs, and he shivered with the sensation. At least there were some benefits to fucking spending an hour shaving his legs.
AJ slid one black-manicured hand up Justin's smooth thigh and underneath his skirt. His rings were shockingly cold against the heated flesh of Justin's cock, but AJ ignored Justin's shudder--not even seeming to notice as Justin writhed on his dick--and kept jerking him off, the metal gradually warming with the friction.
He kept fucking steadily into him at the same time. Each even thrust smacked Justin's oversensitive flesh, and Justin wondered if he'd ever come, or if the combination of pleasure and pain would keep him balanced on the knife's edge indefinitely.
AJ apparently wasn't going to have that problem. He was growling softly, his body taut with strain. His left hand tightened almost painfully on Justin's hip as he slammed up into him once, twice, and came, his body sagging into the mattress in boneless relaxation.
Justin tried to pull away, but AJ held him down insistently, and Justin stilled against his body. After a moment AJ started rocking his hips again, his soft cock nudging Justin's prostate with each minute thrust.
Usually Justin was a fuck me harder, faster kind of guy, but the unfamiliar gentle pressure was drawing a full-body shiver from him with each thrust. His fingers trembled on AJ's bony ribs. AJ's hand on his cock urged his hips to snap forward in search of release, but he couldn't make his body abandon the distracting, frustrating pleasure of AJ's dick in his ass. Justin whimpered helplessly.
"Calm down, baby." AJ's other hand patted his stomach in what was no doubt meant to be a reassuring manner, but Justin felt the touch catch his already painfully overwrought nerves. His moan this time sounded more like a sob.
AJ's hand moved back to Justin's hip and squeezed it gently. "Look down," he said. Justin's eyes snapped open to look into AJ's dark gaze. "Look at yourself," he clarified. Justin did.
His white shirt, translucent with sweat, gaped open, revealing more than a glimpse of damp, glowing skin. Beneath that, everything was obscured by a heavy layer of plaid. Though as Justin watched, AJ slowly drew back the fabric. The tip of his dark pink cock peeked into view, and then more of it until Justin could clearly see AJ's hand rubbing over his swollen flesh. His thumb swiped over the head. Justin shuddered into AJ's touch, felt his ass tighten around AJ's cock. His tired legs raised him an inch or so, just enough to grind down harder onto AJ, as AJ yanked his cock--three long, stripping pulls. Justin's orgasm felt wrung out of him.
He collapsed forward, mindless of the mess on AJ's stomach, and lay there gasping breathlessly. That had been...hot. In an entirely unforeseen way.
Now it was only left to see how he managed to reconcile himself to the situation.
He didn't want to say anything, ideally didn't want to move for the next year or so, and AJ let Justin clutch him, his arms a comfort around Justin's still-trembling body.
When Justin felt himself beginning to drift, though, AJ shifted suddenly beneath him. "Justin," he said, his voice pitched low and soothing. Justin clung tighter, but then made himself look up into AJ's face. "C'mon, babe, you don't want to sleep like that."
Considering that the wool skirt had abraded small friction burns on his skin, and the shirt was sticking damply to his underarms and back, Justin was forced to agree.
He looked at AJ covertly from under his eyelashes as the two of them stripped off the sweaty clothes. By the time Justin was naked and underneath the covers again, wrapped around AJ's warm body, he thought he almost had the courage to ask the question that had been in the back of his mind since AJ had handed him the schoolgirl outfit with a hopeful smile.
Justin cleared his throat. "So, um, why did you want to do this?"
AJ shrugged. "Thought it would be hot," he said unapologetically. "And it fucking was. Why, you didn't like it?"
"I don't...I don't know."
AJ grunted, patting Justin's shoulder. "It can be a one-time only thing. Like the blindfolds. Or the nipple clamps."
"Yeah, maybe. Just...did you want me to dress up like this because of Britney?"
"Well, yeah, of course." AJ sounded astonished that Justin could ever have considered otherwise, and Justin blinked back sudden tears. He hadn't really thought that he was in competition with his fucking ex-girlfriend for AJ's attentions. He guessed that he might be hopelessly naive.
"Jesus, kid, what's wrong? I'd thought that was pretty obvious from the beginning."
"Sorry," Justin said. "Somehow I didn't fucking realize that you weren't actually screwing me tonight. You want me to just give you Britney's number, eliminate the middleman?"
"What the hell?!" AJ was suddenly tense beneath him, and Justin cringed. He hadn't really wanted to make AJ mad. Mad and possibly in the mood to dump Justin. Even knowing that he was second-best would be better than that.
"I don't--" he began apologetically.
"No, stop," AJ said. "I think we should discuss the nature of fantasy before you go any further."
Justin nodded. He hoped desperately that discussing the nature of fantasy didn't mean that AJ was about to share any Britney-themed wet dreams with him.
"I didn't ask you to dress like this because I wanted to fuck Britney," AJ said. Justin's heart swelled faintly with hope, and he made himself listen more carefully. "If I wanted to fuck Britney, then I'd be fucking Britney right now. I don't waste my time doing things--or people--that I don't want."
"But then...why dress me up like her?" Justin asked.
"You remember when the Baby One More Time video came out?" AJ asked.
Justin nodded, puzzled.
"And there's this sexy little kid, too young to actually deliver what she was promising, prancing around in her little schoolgirl outfit. Everybody knows that's how Britney made it big, but not everyone realizes that it was the same for Nick, and for you. All of you were always so damned untouchable, because you weren't real. The reality was some little boy who wanted to sing and play basketball and actually thought he'd have a shot at the NBA."
"Hey," Justin protested automatically, "I'm a damn fine--"
"Don't even start, Timberlake," AJ said. "One dumbass conversation at a time, okay? Anyway, then you hooked up with Britney, and you got to play basketball captain and head cheerleader together, in some fucking virginal little high school romance."
"I wasn't some little kid, though," Justin said. "I was fourteen by the time 'N Sync started. I lost my virginity only a couple of months after I first met you. To Nick, AJ."
"There's never just one fantasy," AJ interrupted. "You know that. There's the fantasy of sex, and the fantasy of innocence. You've got to have both of them. And even if you weren't too young for sex, you were still too young for me."
"Okay, still, what does this have to do with me dressing up like Britney?" Justin asked.
"You were untouchable, and I wanted to touch you." AJ shrugged.
"What, back then?"
"Then, now, anytime. You were always too young, though, or too straight--in spite of Nick--or too all about your hot young girlfriend."
"I would have slept with you then," Justin confessed abruptly. "Even when I was dating Britney. I've always wanted you."
"I know," AJ said casually. Justin stared at him. "Babe, you're not exactly subtle. It didn't matter. I still couldn't have you, for all the reasons I mentioned."
"So you fucking me in this outfit is..."
"...me making love to you back then," AJ finished. Justin inhaled sharply at the verb, and tucked it away for later discussion. When he got up the courage. "Plus, you really do look fucking incredible in a skirt."
"I...yeah?" Justin asked.
"Do you have any idea how much sex I've had in my life?"
Justin nodded. He didn't, really, but the question sounded rhetorical, anyway.
"And even with all that I've seen, I nearly came in my pants when you walked through that door."
Justin shivered pleasurably. "Um, okay, we can probably do this again. You want to just fuck me now, though?"
"Baby," AJ said, "when do I ever want to do anything else?" and his hand slid warm and careful up the back of Justin's thigh.