randomling | All Yours

It's JuC day, so here's my very first ever JuC fic to celebrate.

Summary: Time spent with Justin is something worth savouring.
Warnings: Boybands, RPF.
Also: Thank you to

ephemera_pop for beta, and

phaballa,

bououou and

vaudevilles for encouragement.

For

rikes.

All Yours

JC rolls over as he wakes up. Justin's beside him, right where he was when JC finally dropped off: asleep on his side, the twisted-up bedclothes exposing the long line of his naked back. For a guy who can hardly sit still when he's awake, Justin's oddly motionless when he sleeps. JC would almost worry, except for how he can see the movement of Justin's back and shoulders that comes with each slow, even breath.

It's so rare nowadays - waking up next to Justin - that he hoards moments like this, moments that with any other boyfriend would probably be too commonplace to notice at all. It's not just this he treasures, the lying in bed, still only half-awake, watching Justin sleep. It's making eyes at each other in the studio without Timbaland noticing, and sharing takeout in Justin's suite after, and knowing the exact finger-movement to make Justin gasp with delight.

JC slides over to spoon with Justin, and settles in comfortably, wrapping one arm around so he can rest the flat of his hand against Justin's familiar belly. He's smiling, but there's an ache in his chest, because as soon as Justin's awake he'll be up and gone, and God only knows when they'll get the chance again.

The Demon Schedule, Chris used to call it - he guesses they're all slaves to it. Justin more than most.

Curling up against Justin's enough to wake him. JC presses a kiss to the back of Justin's neck as he stirs, and Justin makes a sleepy, satisfied humming noise. They roll over together, until JC's on his back with Justin cuddled up against him, and Justin bends his head to nuzzle JC's shoulder. "Morning," Justin says.

JC moves his hand so he can stroke Justin's hair. "Hi."

They don't say anything for a little while, because they both know how this goes: soon one of them will wake up enough to look at the time, and then all of a sudden the schedule will be king again, and Justin will run for the shower. So they stay where they are, and JC keeps stroking Justin's hair, just letting his mind drift, not even really thinking about the half-realized snatch of melody that's buzzing around his head. Justin's here; that means there's always music, even when there's not.

Eventually, Justin brushes a kiss against JC's shoulder and says, "I don't wanna get up."

"Me neither," says JC. He thinks for a moment, and decides that it needs saying, this thing in his head. "I love this," he says, "being with you like this. Right now you're all mine. I like that."

Justin takes a second to lever himself up on one elbow, and says, "You don't need to be with me for that."

That makes JC frown, because the whole point is that's exactly what he does need. The rest of the time, Justin belongs to other people - to managers and producers and assistants, the press and the fans, his mom and his girlfriend. Right now he's just Justin, JC's Justin, but most of the time he's Justin Fucking Timberlake, and Justin Fucking Timberlake is the property of the whole damn world.

"You don't," Justin insists. "I'm always all yours."

He leans in to kiss JC on the mouth, and JC closes his eyes, knowing it's not true. But he also knows that Justin wants it to be true, at least right now, and that's going to have to be good enough.

"Love you," JC says softly. He draws his fingers through Justin's hair, trails them down Justin's back, and sighs. "You better get up."