He doesn't smile for pictures anymore. It's not like he's depressed, though. He still laughs and flashes his cheesy grin all the time and, occasionally, a photographer will catch him that way. But he just won't pose for pictures with the open-mouthed grin you love.
You think he probably stopped when you got the proofs from a photo shoot and Justin caught sight of JC's big-eyed, slightly gap-toothed smile. He snatched the picture and waved it in front of JC, shouting, "Who let Bucky the Beaver join our group? Damn, C, those are some big ass teeth."
At the time, you laughed and maybe joined in the teasing a little. Looking back, you probably should have whomped Timberlake upside his perfect curly head and called him Cyrano. Oh well. The literary reference would have been lost on him anyway, you think.
Many months go by before you notice the new trend. After all, you just did a bunch of shoots where you were supposed to act brooding and mysterious. Because, you know, that's what fans above the age of 15 find sexy. Or something.
When you open Entertainment Weekly to a picture of beaming boys (and tight-lipped JC), you toss the magazine onto the bus sofa where he's sleeping upright and jump into his lap.
"Oogh. Wha-" He makes a feeble attempt to push you away. "Chris get offa me."
"C," you say, straddling him and holding his eyelids open with the pads of your thumbs, "smile for me."
JC turns his head and swats at your hands until you relent. But at least he's awake now.
"What are you talking about?"
"This." You pick up the magazine and point out his somber face. "Dude, what the fuck's your problem?"
"Hey man, I take crap from you when I smile, I get accosted when I don't. Lea'me alone."
"Oh, come on. Justin's an ass. He's just jealous cause your lips are so much fuller and prettier than his," you reply, grinning and poking his hip bone.
JC folds over onto your hand and giggles helplessly as you continue your assault, using both your hands to press down on his waist.
"There, like that," you tell him, as he sits up again, still giggling.
Then, without warning him, really without even knowing you're going to do it yourself, you lean toward JC and lick his teeth. Your tongue catches on the inside of his lip and you pull back abruptly.
You're pretty sure the shock on his face matches yours. He doesn't say anything and you sit in silence for a couple hours. Or maybe it's only a few seconds, you can't really tell.
"I've always liked your teeth, you know."
JC nods slowly and his face is getting closer again. You don't know if you're moving or if it's him, but when your lips have met and he's licking inside your mouth, you're pretty sure you don't care.
This is probably the slowest, laziest kiss you've ever had. And definitely the nicest. JC's tongue finds yours and it's soft like velvet, cool too.
It's only when you're sucking on his bottom lip, holding it tightly between your teeth, that you notice something pressing into your thigh. Something very hot, very hard, and very JC. And then you realize that your cock is starting to twitch against the inside of your pants.
There's a sigh and a moan when you begin rocking on his lap and JC lifts the hem of your shirt, rubbing his fingers along your lower back and dipping into the waistband of your pants. JC pulls you toward him, so that you are pressed up against his stomach. And damn if you don't want to grind him right through the sofa.
Your hands let go of JC's neck and he helps you out of your shirt, rubbing smooth skin and teasing your nipples with his thumbs. His breath is hot against your chest as he licks a trail toward your belly. Then his hands move to the button of your pants.
You shudder with anticipation and ease yourself off his lap to lie on the sofa. JC covers your body with his and kisses you again. In a mess of hands and fingers and want and need, JC tugs at your zipper, while you untie the drawstring on his pants, thankful today for his wardrobe choices.
Then, there is JC. Warm and slightly wet, pressing against your belly, moving against your - oh. The feeling of his cock against yours is new and exciting and not the tiniest bit unpleasant. You moan into his mouth.
JC breaks the kiss, strips off his shirt and runs his hands down the sides of your body, cutting their path down the middle with his tongue. He stops at your navel, looks up into your eyes and asks, "Okay?"
You nod, because all words besides "oh," "uh," and "fuck me" have permanently left your vocabulary, you think. And, when JC's mouth closes over the head of your cock, you know that's right.
It's not really something you've talked about, but now you know he must have done this before. His tongue swirls around the head before he moves down the shaft, turning his mouth from side to side as he goes. You scrape against the roof of his mouth and your hips buck involuntarily.
JC takes all of you into his mouth, then laps your swollen skin. It's all you can do to keep breathing when he sucks at the tip of your cock, his tongue flicking out here and there.
You know you won't last much longer and you pull JC's face up to yours, kissing him deeply. Your cocks rub together between your bellies and it's only a moment before your body is humming, vibrating from your toes to your teeth.
You come all over your stomach and his, running your hands across his back and hooking your ankles behind his legs. JC thrusts a few more times and then he's finished too.
He collapses on top of you, panting. Where his head lies on your chest, you can see the sweat beading on his brow and you wipe it away with two fingers. That's a thank you, because the words are still foreign.
When his breathing has slowed and you think maybe you can form a sentence, JC lifts his head.