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Favorite Hate
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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