Favorite Hate
by Cody

JC hated everything about Justin. His body, his face, his voice, his personality. He hated the way Justin moved and smelled and laughed. He hated the jokes Justin told, the way he pouted like a spoiled brat, and his ridiculous curly hair. He hated how Justin was so fucking Pure and so fucking Perfect.


"So, is it true you're still a virgin?" Did reporters have no fucking shame or was it just that they had no respect for teen idols?

"Yes, it's true." Justin gave a sweet, shy smile. "I want my first time to mean something, because I believe that sex shouldn't just be about lust. I mean, if I went and fooled around with someone I didn't love, I'd just be cheating myself, you know?" He shrugged a little, raked a hand through the curls he wore like a halo. He looked like a painting, and JC wanted to punch him in the fucking face.


Everyone loved Justin. Everyone fawned over his beautiful body and face and teeth and voice and hair. Everyone acted like everything Justin did was adorable and acceptable. Even when Justin was rude and pissy, people looked at him like the sun shone out of his asshole.


"I don't want to do that interview Wednesday," Justin told Nsync's manager, Johnny, who had joined them for dinner to discuss their schedule. "It's too early."

"It's at ten," Johnny said.

"That's too early. Tell them to change it to the afternoon." Justin sipped the wine the restaurant had served him even though he was underage.

"Well, it's kind of short-notice to want to change it now..." Johnny saw Justin's forehead begin to furrow and hastened to add, "but I'll figure something out."

Justin flashed his million-watt grin and took the last bread roll.

After dinner was over, JC took Johnny aside and said, "I was wondering if you could help me out with next Sunday's studio booking. You've got us booked for the morning and afternoon slots, but I work better in the evening, so I was hoping--"

Johnny started shaking his head before JC could even finish. "JC, I already booked it, there's no way I could reschedule now. You'll just have to suck it up this time." Johnny clamped a hand on JC's shoulder. "I'll schedule later time slots from now on, all right?"

JC nodded, but he couldn't help but think that if Justin said he worked better at night, Johnny would've figured something out.


JC hated how conceited Justin was. He hated how people thought Justin's ego was cute and even justified. Justin was good at everything and knew it. Justin wore tight clothes with the easy confidence of one who knows his body is perfect. Justin spoke with the vibrant voice of one who knows he's being listened to. Justin acted like his shit didn't stink and the whole world seemed to agree.


JC saw Justin dribbling with one hand, his other arm hanging limp by his side. He'd broken his thumb on stage a few weeks earlier. "Wanna play a little one-on-one?"

Justin looked surprised by the question. "I don't know, my hand..."

"It'll be fine," JC told him. "Don't be such a pussy." But then smiled like he was joking.

"All right," Justin said, and JC wanted to slap the grin off Justin's face.

At one point in the game, JC threw the ball at Justin fast and it hit Justin's hands hard. Justin shook his injured hand, taking in a hissing breath. "Fuck, JC," It wasn't accusing. "My hand."

"Sorry," JC mumbled, wiping his sweaty face on his t-shirt.

The game lasted less than an hour and Justin beat him. "Good game. Wanna go again?" Justin said. "My hand doesn't hurt that much."

JC shook his head shortly, heading back to the house to take a shower. Justin called after him but he just walked faster.


Sometimes it nearly drove JC crazy thinking about how much he hated Justin. Whenever he saw Justin wearing clothes that clung to him like a second skin, JC wanted to grab him and shake him and scream in his face. He wanted to tear out those fucking curls and bruise that fucking face. He wanted to beat that fucking body till it bled, make Justin cry until that fucking voice broke. He wanted, just once, for Justin to not get his way. He wanted Justin to know what it was like to be disappointed and dissatisfied.


Justin always assumed he had first dibs on anything baby blue. That was "his" color. Baby blue to bring out his blue eyes.

JC had blue eyes, too.

"Your eyes are more grey-blue than blue," Justin had told him once.

Silver-blue, bitch, JC had thought, but out loud he'd just said, "Yhea." So, when they were going to the Blockbuster Awards, JC purposely wore a baby blue jacket. He got nominated for Best Dressed and Justin didn't. When they found out, JC turned to Justin expectantly.

"Cool." Justin ran his hand down JC's arm. "I bet it's the jacket. You've gotta let me borrow it sometime."

JC hated Justin's tone, like he thought JC wore baby blue for him or something. Like JC had worn Justin's favorite color to make him happy. The little fucker actually hoped JC would win. He wanted to tell Justin that even without those stupid curls, he still looked like a jerk. He wanted Justin to grow them back, but only because he hated them so much.


Then came that night in the club. JC sat at the bar, preferring to concentrate on how much he hated the way Justin danced rather than dance himself. Justin had come and sat with him, drank with him, laughed at everything he said, and JC hated him so much it burned. Alcohol had flushed Justin's skin; his eyes looked electric blue and his lips were wet and red. Justin leaned close and asked if he wanted to go back to the hotel, and JC was so consumed with hate he barely managed to say yes.

In the limo, Justin sat close, talking, but JC wasn't listening to his slightly slurred words. He just stared all over Justin, drinking him like the shots they'd had, thirsty with hate. He stared at Justin's mouth, his neck, his chest and thighs and hands. He followed Justin to his hotel room, pushed him inside and onto his back on the bed. Justin looked up at him, confused and innocent and so fucking beautiful it made JC want to hit him. JC covered him, kissed him, pushed his tongue into Justin's mouth and tugged at Justin's clothes. Justin didn't help but didn't hinder, just closed his eyes and moved his lips with the kiss.

JC unbuttoned Justin's shirt and spread it open, laid his hands on Justin's chest and pinched the nipples hard. Those tiny, pink nipples. JC hated them, bit them. He unfastened Justin's pants roughly, shoved his hands into them and grabbed Justin's cock. Justin cried out, and his voice was full of awe and shock and desire, and JC hated him so much he could hardly think. He pulled away from Justin's kiss and yanked off Justin's boxers and pants, taking his shoes and socks off with them. He slithered out of his own clothes like a snake shedding its skin, and then fell on top of Justin, dove back into that mouth. Hate made JC feel overheated; his pulse pounded in his ears and his hands shook. He pressed himself against Justin's thigh, felt Justin rubbing against him, bit down on his neck and sucked long and hard. He stroked desperately at JC's hair and back, breathing heavily, his head thrown back and his eyes clenched shut.

JC reached down and wrapped his hand around Justin's cock, gripped it tight and pumped it fast, all the while grinding his own erection against Justin's muscular, sweat-slick thigh. Justin bit his lip and breathed out moans that sounded like "God" and "Fuck". His hand slipped down JC's abdomen and found his cock. He used his other hand to guide JC's head to his, shoved his tongue into JC's mouth and squeezed JC's cock. JC thrust into his hand, felt his hatred build up inside of him.

They kissed and groped and panted until suddenly Justin arched his back sharply, groaned and came. With JC still thrusting into one of his hands, Justin lifted JC's cum-covered hand to his lips, locked his eyes on JC's and licked the wetness. JC's eyes widened at the sight and feeling of Justin's actions, and then flew shut as he shuddered and came hard.

Justin lifted his head to kiss JC, but JC rolled away and off the bed.

JC didn't look at Justin as he pulled on his pants. He knew that Justin would be staring at him with big, innocent eyes. JC didn't want to look at Justin, had to get out of there before Justin spoke. One look, one word, and JC might stay. He didn't want to stay. He hated Justin. Hated. Hate.

He shoved his feet into his shoes and slipped his shirt on. Justin's gaze seemed to press against JC's skin. JC caught a glimpse of himself in the dresser mirror, and his eyes were grey-blue.

He nearly ran out of Justin's room, slamming the door behind him. He rubbed his hands over his face, took a few calming breaths. As he walked towards his room, he reminded himself why he hated Justin. Reminded himself why he should be satisfied. Smiled to think he'd left Justin a little less Pure, a little less Perfect.


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