Popslash fic: Sing this song with me
So, I'm a little late, but I've been busy, so...
Thank you so much to sperrywink for writing me such a lovely Trickyfish story for MTYG, After the Ending. It was just right, and just what I wanted.
I wrote my story for epicflailer, who wanted Justin/Chris. I love Timbertrick so very much, so I was very happy. It's hard these days for me to write popslash without a bit of an edge. I adore Chris and Justin's early relationship, and even their later one, but there is no happy ending and I couldn't forget that. But I ended the story in 2003, when things were still good enough, and I hope that was okay. Thanks to topaz119 for the read-through. Also, it was only appropriate that the title came from Like I Love You. Sing this song with me, indeed.
Anyway, it's at the MTYG archive, but I wanted it here, too. In the grand old tradition of popslash, I think I will post this headerless. Sing this song with me, Timbertrick.
When Justin was fourteen, he thought Chris was the coolest person he'd ever met. Well, the coolest adult, anyway. The coolest person his own age that he'd ever met was Ryan Gosling from the Mouse Club. Ryan's mother was away a lot and he had to stay with Justin and his mom once in a while.
Sometimes Ryan would pull a little baggie out of his backpack after he and Justin were supposed to be asleep and they'd roll clumsy joints and smoke them out of Justin's bedroom window. The risk of getting caught made it about a million times better.
Sometimes Ryan got in trouble on the show. He did it without Justin, though. There was no way Justin was going to play practical jokes or show up late or sneak off set when they were supposed to be rehearsing just to kiss the older girls. The Mickey Mouse Club was too important to Justin for that.
Justin had plans.
When the Mouse was over and Justin didn't know what he was going to do next, he met Chris. Chris, with his car and his sense of humor, and how he had more energy than anyone Justin had ever met before.
Chris was awesome.
He could be mean sometimes, like when he thought he was being funny the things he said had an edge to them that made Justin feel the same way he did when he and Ryan smoked pot in Justin's old bedroom. Kind of scared and excited at the same time.
When Chris talked to JC, sometimes JC would get two spots of red high on his cheeks and Chris would laugh, and then the skin around JC's mouth would get tight.
"Chris," Justin's mom would say, her voice sharp. Chris would look up at her like he was surprised at being caught doing something wrong. His smile would be quick, like it always was, and slowly the tension in JC's shoulders would soften.
It took Justin longer than it should have to figure out how Chris could make JC look like that, or why he'd even want to, and even then Justin didn't really figure it out by himself.
He saw them one day; saw them kissing, Chris on his tiptoes, JC leaning down, fingers tight in Chris's hair.
Justin didn’t know what to think and he wasn't sure he should tell his mom, so he talked to Lance.
"I know," Lance said. "It's been going on for a while. I can't believe you didn’t notice." He sounded smug, but Justin let him get away with it. Lance hadn't been with them since the beginning and sometimes Justin let him say things like that without even glaring at him, just so he didn't feel left out.
"Does Joey know?" Justin asked, wide-eyed.
Lance shook his head. "Joey doesn't pay attention," he said simply. "I do." The I have to was unspoken, but Justin nodded anyway.
The next time Justin saw JC, he had a red bite mark on his neck and a fading ring of purple bruises around his right wrist. Justin flushed with the heat of it and ducked his head so he could sneak a glance at Chris.
Chris looked like he always did, happy and sharp and bright. For some reason that made the spit go dry in Justin's mouth and he avoided Lance's eyes as he grabbed Joey to go out back and swim in the pool with him.
Joey was safe.
*
When Justin was sixteen, he thought Chris was the funniest person he'd ever met. He was always playing jokes on people, and if sometimes those jokes had an unkind feel to them, well, that just made them all the funnier as far as Justin was concerned.
Sometimes Justin needed to feel a little cruel. He wasn't proud of it, but sometimes he needed the sense of balance it gave him.
Justin's mom frowned at Chris when he went too far and she frowned at Justin when he laughed too loud.
Justin cared about his momma's opinion on most things, but he ignored her when she frowned at Chris.
Lance always laughed no matter what, even when Chris put his spoon in the microwave and Lance ended up with a blister on his lip. "Motherfucker," Lance said. "That fucking hurts, you fucker." Lance looked like an innocent choirboy, but Justin knew better. So did Chris and soon Lance was Chris's frequent partner in crime.
Joey laughed, too, but sometimes Justin could see that Joey's innate kindness made him cringe a little at some of the stuff they did. But their lives were so crazy and they were working so hard that Joey usually let Chris blow off steam by making Lance help him torment practically everyone around them.
Chris didn't play jokes on JC very often. Justin suspected that was because JC didn't always get Chris's jokes and it took too much time and energy for Chris to stop and explain them. Chris was already on to the next laugh while JC was still frowning at his mismatched socks or looking in the refrigerator for his favorite CD.
Justin hadn't seen Chris and JC kissing for a while and there were no more bruises encircling JC's wrists, but he still got those spots of color on his face whenever Chris teased him a certain way.
Half the time when Chris tried to play a joke on Justin, it didn't work because Justin would catch on before the joke had a chance to run its course. It was like he knew just what Chris was going to do, knew the way his mind worked, and he would just smile and say, "Man, that is weak. Is that the best you can do?"
And Chris would smile back with a pleased expression, like he thought Justin was almost as smart as Chris, like the two of them knew things that no one else did.
It made Justin feel warm all over when Chris smiled at him like that.
It made him feel known.
*
When Justin was eighteen, he thought Chris was the sexiest person he'd ever met. All Chris had to do was move a certain way, tilt his head at just the right angle, and Justin would feel like his skin was too tight, like there was an itch in the middle of his back that he couldn't quite reach.
His mom was talking about staying home now that Justin had turned eighteen, but sometimes the way she looked at him made him worry that she was going to change her mind and decide to go on tour with them anyway. Like she thought she still needed to keep an eye on him.
Justin tried not to smile at Chris so much and hoped that she would leave soon.
"Momma, I'll be fine. You know you want to go home," Justin kissed her on the cheek and hugged her shoulders.
"I know, baby. It's been a long couple of years and I’m tired." She looked at him sharply. "You be careful now, Justin."
He nodded, meeting her eyes and not even blinking. "I will, Momma."
The first time Justin stepped on a tour bus and knew his mom wasn't going to meet them at the next hotel, he felt the most exhilarating sense of freedom, along with a pang of loss that left him breathless.
"You okay, J?" Chris asked, nudging him with his elbow. Justin watched out the window at the cars driving alongside the bus. Some of the cars were full of girls who waved and screamed and held up signs, swerving all over the road.
Joey laughed and pointed. "Look at them. What are they doing?"
Lance frowned. "They're gonna get hurt. We should tell them not to do that."
Chris rolled his eyes. "You can't stop the crazies, you know."
"Not all of our fans are crazy, Chris," JC said. Chris patted JC's knee. Justin stared at the way Chris's fingers curled around JC's thigh until he had to blink or look away.
When they checked into their hotel, Justin was about to call his mom and ask her what room she was in until he remembered that she was back in Tennessee with his stepdad. He had to sit down on the end of his bed, just to catch his breath.
"Chris," he said into the phone instead. "Chris."
"I know, J," Chris answered.
Later, when he'd called home to tell his mom all about the tour so far, he had to shove a pillow over Chris's face so that she wouldn't hear him laughing as he poked Justin in the side with his dick.
Chris had the best laugh Justin knew. He couldn’t imagine not wanting to hear it every day.
*
When Justin was twenty, he thought Chris was the smartest person he'd ever known.
"It all depends on what you want, J." Chris shrugged. "You wanna be America's pop prince and princess, have pretty blonde babies, make your momma happy?" He raised his eyebrows at Justin. "Or do you wanna do whatever the hell you want and fuck 'em all if they can't take a joke?"
Since Justin was doing exactly what he wanted right that minute, which was letting Chris fuck him until he couldn't see straight, he couldn't quite get as good a handle on the question as it probably deserved.
"So," he gasped, trying to figure out exactly what Chris was saying. "You mean I should break up with her?" Justin knew his mom loved Britney a lot. But he also knew that his mom wouldn't put up with anyone cheating on her son, or jerking him around with lies and coy games.
"I think she's mostly trying to get your attention," Chris said, executing a particularly impressive roll of his hips and making Justin close his eyes and moan.
"Well," Justin managed to say, "It seems like a dumbass way to go about it." His fingers slid on sweaty skin and he readjusted his grip, one hand on Chris's shoulder and the other behind his own knee, pulling it back as far as he could.
"Brit's never been the brightest bulb in the chandelier, J, you know that." Chris licked a stripe across Justin's shoulder, and then bit down, worrying at his collarbone. "Is that what you want?"
Was it? Justin liked smart. He was used to smart. Smart suited him. Being with someone smart made him happy. Britney wasn't stupid, he didn't think that, but Chris was whip-smart and Justin liked that a lot.
"I want you," Justin said, and he watched Chris's eyes darken as he stared down at Justin.
Later, before they went onstage, Joey said, "I know you're pissed, Justin, but she's just a kid. And it's not as if you haven't - well, you know." And he glanced over at Chris as he and Lance huddled in a corner of the Quiet Room, planning who knew what kind of mayhem on yet another unsuspecting crewmember.
And Justin knew that. He wasn't stupid and he didn't want to be a hypocrite. But it was different with Chris. Chris was a part of him, like an arm or a leg, or like one of his kidneys. Like his heart.
JC sat down next to him and put his head on Justin's shoulder. "Fuckin' Wade, man. Who knew?"
And that just about summed it up, as far as Justin was concerned.
He felt eyes on him and he looked over to find Chris watching him with a smile. Chris nodded and Justin smiled back.
He knew what he wanted.
*
When Justin was twenty-two, he thought Chris was the most resilient person he'd ever known.
"Get your ass in gear, Superstar," Chris called, poking his head into Justin's hotel room, as if they hadn't exchanged angry words earlier when Justin arrived at the hotel. Time and distance tended to make Chris sharpen his verbal knives. "Rehearsal starts in an hour and we already have to wait for JC to do his hair."
"Flat iron?" Justin asked knowingly.
Chris nodded and smirked.
"So there's plenty of time to make Lance eat something," Justin said. "He's a skeleton since Russia."
Chris's smirk turned sharp, angry that one of his own had been hurt.
"He'll be fine, Chris," Justin said.
"Damn straight he will be," Chris answered grimly. Justin felt familiar warmth course through him.
"How's your cold?" he asked, changing the subject. "Can you still hit those high notes in Stayin' Alive?" Justin finished tying his shoes, wiping a barely visible smudge off the left one. He looked up to find Chris watching him with fondness in his eyes.
"Dick," Justin smiled. Chris smiled back, and everything that had felt off-balance since they'd arrived in New York for the Grammys seemed to right itself.
"Asshole," Chris said, but Justin could tell he didn’t mean it this time. "I'm proud of you, J, you know that, right?"
Justin did know that. It made him feel like he could conquer the world, while at the same time it made his eyes prickle with heat.
He'd been trying to make Chris proud since he was fourteen years old.
He'd loved Chris since he was fourteen, too. He was afraid of not loving Chris. He wouldn't know how not to love him.
"Come on," Justin said, getting to his feet and moving towards Chris with intent. Chris's eyes glinted as he looked at Justin, waiting for him like he always did.
Like Justin hoped he always would.
Thank you so much to sperrywink for writing me such a lovely Trickyfish story for MTYG, After the Ending. It was just right, and just what I wanted.
I wrote my story for epicflailer, who wanted Justin/Chris. I love Timbertrick so very much, so I was very happy. It's hard these days for me to write popslash without a bit of an edge. I adore Chris and Justin's early relationship, and even their later one, but there is no happy ending and I couldn't forget that. But I ended the story in 2003, when things were still good enough, and I hope that was okay. Thanks to topaz119 for the read-through. Also, it was only appropriate that the title came from Like I Love You. Sing this song with me, indeed.
Anyway, it's at the MTYG archive, but I wanted it here, too. In the grand old tradition of popslash, I think I will post this headerless. Sing this song with me, Timbertrick.
When Justin was fourteen, he thought Chris was the coolest person he'd ever met. Well, the coolest adult, anyway. The coolest person his own age that he'd ever met was Ryan Gosling from the Mouse Club. Ryan's mother was away a lot and he had to stay with Justin and his mom once in a while.
Sometimes Ryan would pull a little baggie out of his backpack after he and Justin were supposed to be asleep and they'd roll clumsy joints and smoke them out of Justin's bedroom window. The risk of getting caught made it about a million times better.
Sometimes Ryan got in trouble on the show. He did it without Justin, though. There was no way Justin was going to play practical jokes or show up late or sneak off set when they were supposed to be rehearsing just to kiss the older girls. The Mickey Mouse Club was too important to Justin for that.
Justin had plans.
When the Mouse was over and Justin didn't know what he was going to do next, he met Chris. Chris, with his car and his sense of humor, and how he had more energy than anyone Justin had ever met before.
Chris was awesome.
He could be mean sometimes, like when he thought he was being funny the things he said had an edge to them that made Justin feel the same way he did when he and Ryan smoked pot in Justin's old bedroom. Kind of scared and excited at the same time.
When Chris talked to JC, sometimes JC would get two spots of red high on his cheeks and Chris would laugh, and then the skin around JC's mouth would get tight.
"Chris," Justin's mom would say, her voice sharp. Chris would look up at her like he was surprised at being caught doing something wrong. His smile would be quick, like it always was, and slowly the tension in JC's shoulders would soften.
It took Justin longer than it should have to figure out how Chris could make JC look like that, or why he'd even want to, and even then Justin didn't really figure it out by himself.
He saw them one day; saw them kissing, Chris on his tiptoes, JC leaning down, fingers tight in Chris's hair.
Justin didn’t know what to think and he wasn't sure he should tell his mom, so he talked to Lance.
"I know," Lance said. "It's been going on for a while. I can't believe you didn’t notice." He sounded smug, but Justin let him get away with it. Lance hadn't been with them since the beginning and sometimes Justin let him say things like that without even glaring at him, just so he didn't feel left out.
"Does Joey know?" Justin asked, wide-eyed.
Lance shook his head. "Joey doesn't pay attention," he said simply. "I do." The I have to was unspoken, but Justin nodded anyway.
The next time Justin saw JC, he had a red bite mark on his neck and a fading ring of purple bruises around his right wrist. Justin flushed with the heat of it and ducked his head so he could sneak a glance at Chris.
Chris looked like he always did, happy and sharp and bright. For some reason that made the spit go dry in Justin's mouth and he avoided Lance's eyes as he grabbed Joey to go out back and swim in the pool with him.
Joey was safe.
*
When Justin was sixteen, he thought Chris was the funniest person he'd ever met. He was always playing jokes on people, and if sometimes those jokes had an unkind feel to them, well, that just made them all the funnier as far as Justin was concerned.
Sometimes Justin needed to feel a little cruel. He wasn't proud of it, but sometimes he needed the sense of balance it gave him.
Justin's mom frowned at Chris when he went too far and she frowned at Justin when he laughed too loud.
Justin cared about his momma's opinion on most things, but he ignored her when she frowned at Chris.
Lance always laughed no matter what, even when Chris put his spoon in the microwave and Lance ended up with a blister on his lip. "Motherfucker," Lance said. "That fucking hurts, you fucker." Lance looked like an innocent choirboy, but Justin knew better. So did Chris and soon Lance was Chris's frequent partner in crime.
Joey laughed, too, but sometimes Justin could see that Joey's innate kindness made him cringe a little at some of the stuff they did. But their lives were so crazy and they were working so hard that Joey usually let Chris blow off steam by making Lance help him torment practically everyone around them.
Chris didn't play jokes on JC very often. Justin suspected that was because JC didn't always get Chris's jokes and it took too much time and energy for Chris to stop and explain them. Chris was already on to the next laugh while JC was still frowning at his mismatched socks or looking in the refrigerator for his favorite CD.
Justin hadn't seen Chris and JC kissing for a while and there were no more bruises encircling JC's wrists, but he still got those spots of color on his face whenever Chris teased him a certain way.
Half the time when Chris tried to play a joke on Justin, it didn't work because Justin would catch on before the joke had a chance to run its course. It was like he knew just what Chris was going to do, knew the way his mind worked, and he would just smile and say, "Man, that is weak. Is that the best you can do?"
And Chris would smile back with a pleased expression, like he thought Justin was almost as smart as Chris, like the two of them knew things that no one else did.
It made Justin feel warm all over when Chris smiled at him like that.
It made him feel known.
*
When Justin was eighteen, he thought Chris was the sexiest person he'd ever met. All Chris had to do was move a certain way, tilt his head at just the right angle, and Justin would feel like his skin was too tight, like there was an itch in the middle of his back that he couldn't quite reach.
His mom was talking about staying home now that Justin had turned eighteen, but sometimes the way she looked at him made him worry that she was going to change her mind and decide to go on tour with them anyway. Like she thought she still needed to keep an eye on him.
Justin tried not to smile at Chris so much and hoped that she would leave soon.
"Momma, I'll be fine. You know you want to go home," Justin kissed her on the cheek and hugged her shoulders.
"I know, baby. It's been a long couple of years and I’m tired." She looked at him sharply. "You be careful now, Justin."
He nodded, meeting her eyes and not even blinking. "I will, Momma."
The first time Justin stepped on a tour bus and knew his mom wasn't going to meet them at the next hotel, he felt the most exhilarating sense of freedom, along with a pang of loss that left him breathless.
"You okay, J?" Chris asked, nudging him with his elbow. Justin watched out the window at the cars driving alongside the bus. Some of the cars were full of girls who waved and screamed and held up signs, swerving all over the road.
Joey laughed and pointed. "Look at them. What are they doing?"
Lance frowned. "They're gonna get hurt. We should tell them not to do that."
Chris rolled his eyes. "You can't stop the crazies, you know."
"Not all of our fans are crazy, Chris," JC said. Chris patted JC's knee. Justin stared at the way Chris's fingers curled around JC's thigh until he had to blink or look away.
When they checked into their hotel, Justin was about to call his mom and ask her what room she was in until he remembered that she was back in Tennessee with his stepdad. He had to sit down on the end of his bed, just to catch his breath.
"Chris," he said into the phone instead. "Chris."
"I know, J," Chris answered.
Later, when he'd called home to tell his mom all about the tour so far, he had to shove a pillow over Chris's face so that she wouldn't hear him laughing as he poked Justin in the side with his dick.
Chris had the best laugh Justin knew. He couldn’t imagine not wanting to hear it every day.
*
When Justin was twenty, he thought Chris was the smartest person he'd ever known.
"It all depends on what you want, J." Chris shrugged. "You wanna be America's pop prince and princess, have pretty blonde babies, make your momma happy?" He raised his eyebrows at Justin. "Or do you wanna do whatever the hell you want and fuck 'em all if they can't take a joke?"
Since Justin was doing exactly what he wanted right that minute, which was letting Chris fuck him until he couldn't see straight, he couldn't quite get as good a handle on the question as it probably deserved.
"So," he gasped, trying to figure out exactly what Chris was saying. "You mean I should break up with her?" Justin knew his mom loved Britney a lot. But he also knew that his mom wouldn't put up with anyone cheating on her son, or jerking him around with lies and coy games.
"I think she's mostly trying to get your attention," Chris said, executing a particularly impressive roll of his hips and making Justin close his eyes and moan.
"Well," Justin managed to say, "It seems like a dumbass way to go about it." His fingers slid on sweaty skin and he readjusted his grip, one hand on Chris's shoulder and the other behind his own knee, pulling it back as far as he could.
"Brit's never been the brightest bulb in the chandelier, J, you know that." Chris licked a stripe across Justin's shoulder, and then bit down, worrying at his collarbone. "Is that what you want?"
Was it? Justin liked smart. He was used to smart. Smart suited him. Being with someone smart made him happy. Britney wasn't stupid, he didn't think that, but Chris was whip-smart and Justin liked that a lot.
"I want you," Justin said, and he watched Chris's eyes darken as he stared down at Justin.
Later, before they went onstage, Joey said, "I know you're pissed, Justin, but she's just a kid. And it's not as if you haven't - well, you know." And he glanced over at Chris as he and Lance huddled in a corner of the Quiet Room, planning who knew what kind of mayhem on yet another unsuspecting crewmember.
And Justin knew that. He wasn't stupid and he didn't want to be a hypocrite. But it was different with Chris. Chris was a part of him, like an arm or a leg, or like one of his kidneys. Like his heart.
JC sat down next to him and put his head on Justin's shoulder. "Fuckin' Wade, man. Who knew?"
And that just about summed it up, as far as Justin was concerned.
He felt eyes on him and he looked over to find Chris watching him with a smile. Chris nodded and Justin smiled back.
He knew what he wanted.
*
When Justin was twenty-two, he thought Chris was the most resilient person he'd ever known.
"Get your ass in gear, Superstar," Chris called, poking his head into Justin's hotel room, as if they hadn't exchanged angry words earlier when Justin arrived at the hotel. Time and distance tended to make Chris sharpen his verbal knives. "Rehearsal starts in an hour and we already have to wait for JC to do his hair."
"Flat iron?" Justin asked knowingly.
Chris nodded and smirked.
"So there's plenty of time to make Lance eat something," Justin said. "He's a skeleton since Russia."
Chris's smirk turned sharp, angry that one of his own had been hurt.
"He'll be fine, Chris," Justin said.
"Damn straight he will be," Chris answered grimly. Justin felt familiar warmth course through him.
"How's your cold?" he asked, changing the subject. "Can you still hit those high notes in Stayin' Alive?" Justin finished tying his shoes, wiping a barely visible smudge off the left one. He looked up to find Chris watching him with fondness in his eyes.
"Dick," Justin smiled. Chris smiled back, and everything that had felt off-balance since they'd arrived in New York for the Grammys seemed to right itself.
"Asshole," Chris said, but Justin could tell he didn’t mean it this time. "I'm proud of you, J, you know that, right?"
Justin did know that. It made him feel like he could conquer the world, while at the same time it made his eyes prickle with heat.
He'd been trying to make Chris proud since he was fourteen years old.
He'd loved Chris since he was fourteen, too. He was afraid of not loving Chris. He wouldn't know how not to love him.
"Come on," Justin said, getting to his feet and moving towards Chris with intent. Chris's eyes glinted as he looked at Justin, waiting for him like he always did.
Like Justin hoped he always would.