Pairing: Chris and Justin
Words: befuddle; lust; leather; absent


It's after Celebrity's out that Justin really starts noticing
Chris's thighs.  It's that damn picture!  The album cover, with
Chris all in shiny, supple leather.  Clingy leather.  Justin
desperately wants Chris, and more, he wants Chris in that leather. 
He wants to lick Chris everywhere with that leather dragging under
his tongue.  Of course, it's not like he can say that.  So he just
sits and stares.

Chris has an itch.  A really nagging itch.  One of those just
behind the balls, sweat induced itches.  So he reaches into his
shorts and starts scratching.

Oooh.  Yeah.  Better than sex.

Justin makes a little sound.  Chris is touching himself.

Chris hears something, but fuck it.  He's in the perfect groove
where his nails are dragging through the itchiest part, but it
hasn't yet edged over into the kind of painful you get when you
scratch too much.

Justin's mouth falls open and he doesn't even have enough brain
cells to hide his gaping.

Then Chris reaches the point of pain.  That always happens.  No
matter how good it feels, it has to start getting painful
eventually.  Nature's way of ensure that people don't spend their
whole lives scratching their balls and jacking off, he supposes.

Chris pulls his hand out, sighs, and then, because he can't help
himself -- it's something that *has* to be done -- sniffs his
fingers.  Oh, yeah.

"Eep."

Chris looks up.  "What's with you, infant?"

"I wanna lick you everywhere."  Hmm.  The brain bypass switch has
been flipped.

Chris raises his eyebrows.  "Oh, yeah?"  He looks at Justin, looks
at his own fingers, and then laughs.  "Good one.  You had me going
there."

Justin stares some more.  "Leather," he whispers.

Chris looks around.  No leather anywhere in sight.  He gets up and
puts a hand on Justin's forehead.  "Issums the poor baby sick?"

"I want you to wear this leather and then I want to lick you
everywhere."  Justin holds up a copy of the CD.

Chris takes his hand back.  "Dude, you are seriously whacked.  Do
we need to get you some rawhide to chew on?  Maybe those bones,
like they make for dogs?"

Belatedly Justin's self-preservation gene asserts itself.  "Never
mind.  I seriously had you going, huh?"   He forces a laugh.

"Uh huh."  Chris's eyes narrow.  "You had me thinking that maybe
you were after my hot, sexy bod."  He does a little dance for
Justin, thrusting his hips out right in front of him.

Justin drops the CD and grabs Chris's hips, planting his face
firmly in Chris's groin.

"Oh, baby, you know what I like," Chris says, before realizing
that, whoa.  Justin's face is seriously buried.  Definite full
penile contact.  Way beyond funny.

Chris pushes Justin back.  "Hey.  What the fuck?"

Justin scrambles over the back of his chair, waving his hands. 
"Hey, now, um.  Just, y'know.  You put it right out there and... I,
uh.  Screwed up, it looks like."

"Well, *yeah*.  Unless you were *planning* on looking completely,
hopelessly gay."

"Hopeless as in 'will never get laid'?"

"Hopeless as in, 'will never want to get into Britney's panties
ever'."

"Not enough room, what with Wade and that dildo of the month club."

"See.  Here's with the not-making-me-think-this-is-serious jokes. 
Other people do this thing where they pick a side.  Like, straight. 
Or bi.  Or asparagus.  You, my little sex fiend, are just weird."

"No, um.  I'm serious."

"You really do belong to the dildo of the month club?  Cool.  What
was October's?"

"No, um.  She does."

"Whoa."

"Yeah.  I can't compete."

"But... but..." Chris mock-stutters.  "You're *Justin Timberlake*!" 
Then he does a fan scream, just 'cause he can.  And because
puncturing eardrums never gets old.

"The creepy part is that they're all made of glass.  Pyrex,
actually.  And silver and gold."

Chris scrunches up his nose.  "*Decorative* dildoes?  What's the
point?"

"Oh, they're functional."  Justin would blush if he weren't so busy
staring at Chris's crotch and imagining him in leather.

Chris notices the direction of Justin's gaze.  Experimentally, he
rotates his hips in a slow grind.  "Seems unsafe to me.  Glass in
the ass and all."

"Medical grade," Justin says absently.

"Still..."

"Huh?"

"You're really into me, aren't you?" Chris asks, standing still
again.  "Man, we better get you laid and fast before sheep start
looking good to you."

"Sheep don't wear leather."

"Cows, then."

Justin sighs.  "Chris, can I or not?"

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

Chris raises his eyebrows.  "I don't have any leather with me."

"The, uh.  The costume people have that outfit."

"You *are* serious."  Chris nods.  "Okay.  Go get it.  I need to
get some baby powder if I wanna get those on."

Justin says, "Really?"

"Yeah.  So, okay, c'mon.  I'm not getting any younger, y'know."

Justin runs.

Chris shakes his head and goes for the bathroom.

It doesn't actually take too long to get the clothes and get back
up to the suite.  "Um.  Here?"  He knocks at the bathroom door.

"In the shower!" Chris calls.

"Should I just leave these?"

"If you want!"

"'kay."  Justin sets the clothes on the counter and goes to wait on
the bed.  His skin is humming with excitement and anticipation. 
Plus, he's hard as a rock.

Justin isn't there when Chris gets out of the shower, which Chris
takes to mean that Justin is a girl and wants to anticipate things. 
So he powders and, sucking in his gut, gets dressed.  

Justin looks up with Chris comes into the room.  "Oh, thank you,
God."

Chris shakes his head.  "Dude, you have no idea how much it messes
with my head having *you* think of me as a sex symbol."

Justin doesn't care what Chris says, as long as he gets to lick
Chris everywhere.

Chris saunters over to the bed.  "Should I sit down, or are you
just gonna leap on me?"

Justin crawls over to Chris and starts licking the leather over his
hip.

"Well, that answers that question," Chris says, reaching down to
pet Justin's head.

Leather.  Musky, sweet leather.  Justin zones out on everything but
being horny and licking Chris.

Eventually, Chris gets tired of standing, and backs away slowly. 
Justin follows him, to Chris's amusement.  Chris sprawls out on the
bed and spreads his legs.  "C'mon.  Let's try it up here."

Justin starts at Chris's ankle and works his way up and then back
down.

Chris watches him.  He'd take a nap if it weren't so hot to watch
Justin's tongue darting in and out of his pink lips.

The taste is changing around Chris's cock.  He spends more time
there, until Chris starts to get a little interested.

"Uh.  Keep doing that.  Keep doing that lots."

Justin agrees.  He focuses where the different flavor is most
intense.

Chris whimpers a little when Justin starts licking over his cock
repeatedly.  Starts whimpering a lot when Justin just keeps licking
and licking.

Justin moans and opens his mouth as wide as he can, sucking hard at
the leather.

It only gets worse when Justin starts sucking it through the
leather.  "Fuck.  *Fuck*.  Hey, Justin?  Want to taste it from
inside the leather?"

Justin sucks harder.

"Oh, you bastard," Chris swears.

Justin abandons Chris's cock to map his torso through the leather.

"I don't like you anymore.  I hate you.  I hate everyone related to
you.  Everyone who even just looks a little like you."

Chris's nipples are hard, too.

Chris tries to angle Justin so Justin is at least rubbing against
Chris's dick, but no.  Justin is one obsessed oversized collection
of hormones and Chris was stupid enough to put himself at Justin's
mercy.  He's gonna die.

Eventually, after he's licked and sucked every single part of Chris
that's covered in leather, Justin returns to Chris's cock and
finishes him off through the leather.  Justin himself is reduced to
mindless sucking and licking and the taste of leather.  He stills
gradually after Chris comes -- but only because his whole face and
neck ache and he can't move any more.

"Bastard," Chris says, but it's affectionate.  "Now I'm all stuck
in wet pants.  C'mere."

Justin moves sluggishly until his face is even with Chris's.

Chris holds him loosely and reaches down to check the state of
Justin's cock.  Still hard.  "Poor baby.  C'mere.  Smell all the
nice leather and let me take care of you."

Justin whimpers.  "Tired."

"Ssh."  No guy is *ever* too tired for sex.  Chris gets Justin's
pants open and takes his dick in hand.  "Ssh."

Justin shhs.  He breathes deeply of the scent of damp leather and
sweaty Chris.

Chris makes it slow and drawn out and lets Justin take all the time
he wants, until Justin starts panting and his tongue flicks out to
taste again.  Then he makes it sharp and fast.

Justin comes with his teeth fastened around a bit of Chris's
collar.

Chris lets go and wipes his hand on Justin's pants, 'cause Justin
deserves messy pants, too.  Then he drapes his arm over Justin. 
"Kinky.  Just call me your boytoy chewtoy."

"Leather," Justin mumbles.

Chris gives him a suspicious look.  "Does this new fetish of yours
apply to *anyone* in leather?  Like, say, JC or Lance or other
guy-people like that?"

"Chris thighs," Justin responds.

"Dude.  You are seriously whacked."

"You just did."

"I can see what mental level we're at right now.  Go to sleep.  We
can talk more later.  Or lick.  Whichever."

"My tongue is numb."

"That's what I mean," Chris explains, still amused.  "Go to sleep."

"Chris?  I think you're sexy without leather, too."

"Now you tell me," Chris grumbles, but he's happy inside.