Untouchable
by Scotty

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Justin took the call as he walked toward the stand of black sedans. It was late and he was jet-lagged out of his mind, but he had a stretch of days now, to pull himself together. Inside the limo, he leaned into the seat and then arched his back once, letting fatigue settle in after hours of keeping it at bay. He kicked off one shoe, then the other. Then lifted the phone to his ear.

“Yeah?”

“You’ve got days blacked out. Thursday and Friday.”

Justin closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. The agency he’d hired to restructure his image was small, with an exclusive set of clients. A-list only. They were selective. And relentless. And for some reason, he always felt a little dirty after talking to them. Like he ought to wash his hands.

“Yeah. So?”

“So, if you’re going to be on the coast anyway, we could use the time. We've got a couple requests for access. You’d have the weekend.”

Justin leaned into the phone and took a deep breath. It was 3:30 in the morning and someone still wanted a piece of him.

“Okay.”

He dropped the phone on the seat and waited for security to tap on the roof of the car. A sound that meant the night was over, the limo able to move away through the crowd. When it finally came, he could let his body and mind relax. He was free. It was also the time in years gone by, when he would have reached for JC’s hand, squeezing it gently. When JC would have smiled and pulled him close as the limo filled up with darkness.

But tonight he was alone. Something he still had not gotten used to.

-::-

The black suit had been a last minute change. But it seemed to have been right. In LA he’d been less careful. Justin knew the pop scene, inside and out. It was okay to show up late and leave early. But the gig tonight was different and a misstep here was not acceptable. Not in this environment. Not when even the people he knew as friends were waiting for him to do something wrong.

The media tent was crowded with big names and beautiful faces, yet photographers tracked his every move. It was hard to know who was who. Like the women who shook his hand indifferently when introduced, but pressed their breasts against him when the camera turned away. One of them pretending to fix his collar, then reaching for the turquiose at his neck instead. Brushing his skin with her fingers while her other hand explored his waist. He'd let it play out, then turned away without making a scene.

None of it was new. He was used to being handled. But there was a subtle difference now. Like he could be touched by strangers and there was no one to stop them. When he glanced around the room at the after-party, he’d seen eyes slanted his way.

Like they were waiting their turn.


-::-

There’s no master plan when you’re sixteen.

Life just comes at you in waves, the only common factor being more. Of everything. Justin had understood more. And he’d been okay with it. More was okay. He’d never had a problem with hard work or a full schedule. Especially where music was concerned.

To him, life was really not that much different than it had been at home. Someone still woke him everyday. Just not in the same bed. And there was breakfast with sleepy faces all around. Just not at the same table. He had school work and a curfew.

And he was in love.

The walking-into-doors kind of love.

With someone he saw every day.

JC would laugh at something he’d said or something silly he'd done, then pull him into a hug. Their bodies touching innocently. And intimately. It had looked like nothing. But to Justin, it was everything. The gentleness of it loosened every muscle in his body.

It became his addiction. He would have done anything for it. And for a very long time, it was enough.

-::-

He’d kissed a girl at six because he’d been dared to and it seemed like a good idea at the time. The one he’d kissed at twelve was the only other one he remembered. It was the last time he’d kissed a girl because he wanted to. Because she was pretty and fun and when she put her face close to his, she'd smelled like roses.

All of the others had kissed him. Or had asked to be kissed.

It wasn’t that they were bold or brazen. He'd just been distracted.

The night in Germany was still fresh in his mind. Chris had found some wine and they had let Justin stay. And drink. Just a little. It had made him sleepy and he’d yawned again and again, trying hard to stay awake. JC had pulled him close. A warm arm across his chest. His thumb a constant pulse, stroking his leg.

He must have fallen asleep because suddenly Lance and Joey were gone. And Chris was talking on the phone, his voice low and intimate. Justin lifted his head and suddenly everything was blurry and hot. Not because of the wine, but because of the warm breath passing over him and lips so close to his own that he could taste them. JC was asleep, but Justin had never felt more awake in his life.

And he wanted to kiss him. Had wanted to for months and months, but had pushed the thought away. Now he was here, warm and drugged with sleep and Justin wanted it more than anything in his life.

He checked Chris out of the corner of his eye. Then licked his bottom lip and leaned in slowly. Tasting him first with his tongue, then trailing his mouth across his skin.

And then he stopped. And pulled back suddenly. His eyes wide with fear.

JC had not stirred and Chris was still turned away. But something had changed.

It was him. He'd simply lost his nerve.

At eighteen, he had the body of a man. And the head of a boy. A boy too shy to steal a kiss in the dark. Even one that might have been returned.

-::-

It hadn’t happened overnight, nothing that big ever does. But one day it was gone. JC had stopped touching him. And Britney had begun. He was twenty-one. Incredibly rich. And the media said he was in love.

They were right. He still was.

-::-

Justin leaned against the tile wall, breathing deeply. His eyes were closed. And the water beat a steady pattern on his face. He dropped his jaw letting some of it fill his mouth. He hadn't really needed another shower, he just wanted one.

He'd hit all the right spots in Miami and in the morning he was supposed to go home. He just wasn’t sure where that was. He needed no excuse to go to LA. There was work there. He had friends. But if he went this weekend, there had to be more to it. And he knew that. The days on his schedule had been blacked out for a reason. He'd done it months ago. He could have said it was out of habit. But that would have been a lie.

He turned slowly and let the water pepper his back. All the tension in his body found its way there. Knotting and tearing until the muscles let go. He pushed his palms up the wall and spread his legs, leaning his face into the crook of his arm. Water dripped from his body in sheets. From this angle his cock looked soft and shapeless as it followed the angle of his thigh.

He dropped his hand without thinking about it. This time to touch himself.

-::-

He was exhausted. And he should have been sleeping. And that’s where he was when JC found him. Asleep. On the front seat of his car. The door propped open. One arm flung over his head, legs bent at the knee like an over-sized doll. There were dark circles under his eyes. And he was snoring.

JC thought he looked beautiful.

He nudged him gently with his knee, then called his name. Justin rolled his hips slowly, then tried to turn on his side. The gear shift had other ideas. His eyes fluttered open as cold metal met warm skin.

JC bent down and squeezed his knee.

“Hey. What are you doing here?”

Justin scrubbed at his face, then pulled himself up. His eyes opened wide.

“Where?”

“My driveway.”

Justin squinted past him into the darkness, like he still wasn’t sure where that was. JC shook his head and smiled.

“C’mon, you can tell me inside.”

He started across the courtyard, but Justin didn’t follow. Instead, he closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. He didn’t want to talk. Not now. Not when JC’s hair was wild. And his face had that pouty, glazed look he got from too much wine. No. He just wanted to kiss him senseless. And the driveway was as good a place as any.

JC moved out of the shadow of the door and took a step back toward the driveway, then he stopped. There was a moment before he spoke.

“Are you here because it's my birthday?”

Justin shook his head slowly.

“Maybe tomorrow. But not tonight.”

JC nodded and Justin could almost hear him thinking. When he pushed his keys into his pocket and started to walk toward the car, Justin felt his heart slam into his ribs. He looked down and forced himself to breathe.

And then JC was everywhere. His smell. His touch. His eyes. They were suddenly dark and deep. Justin felt like he was drowning. And they hadn’t even kissed.

“I’m not going to ask you if you’re sure, J. I just want you to come inside.”

JC turned and walked back toward the house. Justin wiped his mouth and pushed himself away fom the car. As he crossed the drive, the night seemed suddenly alive. He could almost smell the stars.