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I know, I know. Predictable.

I want angry JuC. Angry Ju and soothing C. I don't care what Justin is angry about, well I do but I'll leave you some room to work with. And I want JC to soothe/calm him. No sex. Cuddling and whispering and crying please. I need a emotional and broken down Justin. He suits me fine tonight.

Please. :)

Current Mood: angry
Current Music: Yerba Buena "Guajira"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

mirroredimage.livejournal.com

Okay, I'm not sure if this is what you wanted... But I tried. Someone else can feel free to write something as well. I hope it's at least close to what you were expecting.

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“This is bullshit,” Justin says in a low, even tone. “Fucking bullshit.” His eyes turn to JC. “What the fuck is she playing at?”

“J,” JC starts but he doesn’t get a word in.

“She says all that,” he pauses, “all that SHIT about me and the group ending and trying to start up again without me,” and his voice rises with every passing word, “and then she shows up? HERE? This is supposed to be a fun weekend, a weekend to get away and she shows up here?”

JC blinks at the image Justin makes, face flushed with anger. “She’s his mom, Justin.”

“I don’t CARE!” he yells, so loud that the sound bounces off the walls and slams into JC on the bed. “I don’t care about that! She has no RIGHT!” His hands are clenching tight at his sides and JC can tell he’s close to grabbing something to throw against the wall or worse, punching a hole into the wall. “And she has the nerve, no the AUDACITY, to say hello to me?”

“She was being nice,” but JC knows it’s a weak argument and a lie at that. He gets up from the bed and walks to Justin, but stops short when Justin picks up one of the glasses on the table and throws it against the far wall, the glass shattering into small pieces that glitter in the light. “Justin.”

“It’s not my fault!” he finally screams as if he hopes Bev is nearby to hear him. “It’s not my fault that we’re still on hiatus and it’s not like I don’t love the guys!” He’s breathing heavily now, his face growing more flushed. “I love them! They’re my brothers and I wouldn’t leave them like that! You just want someone to blame!” JC touches him on the arm and Justin flinches at the contact. “Don’t blame me,” and it’s like something breaks in Justin because he turns to JC and JC can see a shimmer in his eyes. “Don’t blame me,” he says again, softer this time.

JC wraps his arms around Justin’s waist and holds him tightly, as tightly as he can, and breathes, “I don’t blame you.” The words roll over Justin and he flinches again before he closes his eyes and leans his forehead down on JC’s shoulder. “I don’t blame you, J. You know that, right?”

“No,” Justin says and JC feels the wetness start to form on his shirt and he pulls away to look at Justin. “You should,” he says in a strangled voice. “Everyone else does.”

“Justin,” JC begins but before he continues, he sighs and pulls Justin to the bed where they can sit close together. “J,” he says as his hand strokes a pattern on Justin’s hip, “baby, I don’t blame you. No one does.” Justin is about to argue so JC stops him with a hand on his mouth, “No one that matters.”

“I hate this,” Justin says after a few quiet minutes. “For once, I hate being Justin Timberlake.” He closes his eyes tightly again and his body starts to curl into JC’s, so JC moves them so that they’re lying down on the bed. Justin doesn’t continue to cry, he knows it’s not worth it, but he’s tired now. After years of holding things in, he’s tired and JC can tell.

From:

mirroredimage.livejournal.com

“Don’t say that.” JC props himself up on his hand to look at Justin’s face, so grown up now after years and years of knowing each other, but when Justin opens his eyes, JC can see a hint of the child still there, hidden in the blue depths. “That’s bullshit,” he says softly, repeating Justin’s words from earlier.

“I’m tired,” Justin admits. JC knows it, knows that Justin isn’t just talking about the e-mails that the fans read. JC knows he’s talking about the fans and the paparazzi and the fake girlfriends and stories they each have. He also knows that Justin is talking about the rumors and the lies and sometimes, the truths, and he’s tired of the endless moving, the touring, and the fact the he can never really see JC any time he wants to. JC knows it because he’s felt the same way about the same things with Justin.

“I know you are, baby,” JC says and he slides his body down flush against Justin’s so that he can feel every part of Justin’s warm body against his. “But you’ll get through it.” He holds Justin close and whispers out, “We’ll get through this.”

When Justin falls asleep with eyes still fluttering behind closed eyelids, JC closes his eyes as well, but brings his mouth to Justin’s ear and whispers words of comfort, of love, and of forgiveness, not because they need to be said, but because Justin needs to hear them. And the last thing he whispers before I love you is “I promise that we’ll get through this.”