// just like the good old days //

"You remember him, right?" JC looks up from a pile of papers he's shuffling through, catches Justin's eye. "I know you do."

"Yeah. I remember him. But what's he done since then?"

JC grins and taps a slim cd case he's holding. "Lemme show you."

***

"Hey." Justin smiles as Tony comes offstage, slaps his shoulder. "They loved your stuff, man. Biggest reaction yet."

"Thanks." He lifts his guitar over his head, stands there holding it. Smiles back at Justin. "Thanks for the chance, y'know? I owe you and JC. This is just...wild."

Justin hands him a bottle of water, watches as Tony drinks it in long swallows. "Anything to help out an old friend," he says, and as he turns to go he sees JC look up from where he's standing talking to Joey. JC waves his hand, gives Justin the thumbs-up sign.

Like he's giving me his fucking approval for playing nice, Justin thinks, and doesn't wave back.

***

Justin remembers Tony.

He remembers watching the curve of his neck as he'd stood speaking to JC, the two of them going over the song they'd be singing together on the show later that day. He remembers how JC had leaned close and spoken in Tony's ear; the sound of his voice low and deliberate, the words not meant for anyone else. He remembers watching as Tony laughed, eyes wide with delight, mirroring the secret in JC's smile.

And he definitely remembers the dark, hot prickling in the pit of his belly when JC had reached over and pressed long fingers against the small of Tony's back; just for an instant, but long enough for the image to burn in his head for years to come.

***

"You know," Tony says one night after a show, "I used to get the impression you never liked me much." He wrinkles his nose, and raises his bottle of beer in mock-salute. "Or maybe you were just being a stupid kid."

"Maybe." Justin picks at the label on his own beer, works at peeling it off without ripping it. "It was a long time ago." He stops, looks up at Tony. "And maybe. Maybe I was--"

"Was what?" Tony's watching him intently, and Justin drops his gaze, has to look away. "What, Justin?"

Justin speaks, and his voice is slow, careful. "Yeah. I was a kid," he says, and that's not what he wanted to say at all. I was a kid, but I wasn't stupid. I wasn't stupid at all. "Just a stupid kid." And he looks up again, and this time it's Tony who looks away first, but he's not done yet.

"How about now? What are you now?" Tony watches him, watches his face as he asks.

Justin holds his gaze, pauses for just a minute. "Now?" he says quietly, deliberately, "now I'm just kinda drunk." And I won't give you the satisfaction of telling you the truth.

"There y'all are." JC's voice, his head ducking round the door, closely followed by the rest of him. "Are we all riding together? Joey wants to leave for the club now." He grins at Tony, eyes bright. "Hey man. Just like the good old days, huh? But no curfews this time."

Tony swallows the last of his beer, tosses the bottle into the trash. "Lead the way," he says, standing and slinging an arm round JC's shoulders.

"Coming too, J?" JC stops at the door, looks back at Justin still sitting there.

Justin shakes his head. "No. I think I'll sit this one out, if it's all the same to you guys." His fingernails work at the label; peeling, gently pulling it off, the smooth glass cool and wet against his fingertips.

"You sure?" Tony's voice, but Justin knows he's only asking because JC's there. I'm not a kid anymore, he thinks, and looks up at the two of them standing in the doorway, Tony's arm still round JC's shoulders, their hips touching. As he watches, Tony's fingers slide through one of the belt loops in JC's jeans, and he catches Justin's eye, a small fuck-you smile on his lips.

Justin nods, raises his bottle at them. Smiles brightly, though it doesn't reach his eyes. "Go. Have fun. Be merry."

And they do, the low hum of their voices drifting back up the corridor to Justin as they walk away.

"Just like the good old days," he murmurs, and the label he holds in his fingertips tears neatly in half.

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