|| but you are not her ||

//





Her skin is soft and smooth under his hands, her hips moving with his in counterpoint. His mouth against the curve of her shoulder, and she tastes of warm metal across his tongue, salt and sweat and heat. Blood, he thinks, as she shifts position again, presses her palms flat on his belly. She tastes like blood.

Her skin may be soft but her face is sharp angles, lips pulled tight across her teeth, eyes slitted in the half-light. "Hey," he says, and her eyes open in a lazy slow-blink, and focus on him.

"Feeling chatty, are we?" The slow scrape of nails over his nipples; JC hisses in a breath sharply, his fingers curling reflexively around the jut of her hips, and she grins.

"Fuck you."

"That's what I'm doing, baby." The grin widens, becomes something predatory. "You want I should stop?" Another slick-sharp slide of nails, tiny pinpricks of sensation across his chest, and thick heat coiling at the base of his spine. He shifts restlessly, but she's controlling his movement, her thighs straddling his.

"You think Justin ever goes down on Britney?"

She freezes in the space of a heartbeat, the lines of her body changing, drawn tight and strangely still. "What the fuck, JC?" There's surprise in her voice, and something else, too. Curiosity, maybe, JC thinks.

He grins and twists his hips upward sharply, a shiver of delight shimmering in his belly at the gasp she can't stop in time. "You've never thought about it?" Rocking each word up into her and she can't help but hear them. "Not even once?"

She's biting her lip and he knows the look on her face only too well. "JC--"

And maybe it's a warning, but he's not going to stop now. No way.

"I wonder how she sounds," he says then, slow and low and sly, and he can see his words slipping under her skin, red-hot and alive, "what she looks like when she's coming." Another flick of his hips and he's the one in control now, setting the pace and he knows she won't stop. Knows she can't stop. The only time he ever comes close to loving her is when she's just like this.

"Fuck," she hisses, slitted eyes and she's surging against him, around him, moving with him, slick heat and her nails biting half-moons into his belly, tiny, helpless noises from deep in her throat.

*

"For you," Justin says, dropping the phone in JC's lap as he walks past. "Five minutes, okay?" He points at the door behind him, mouthing, shower, as JC lifts the phone to his ear.

"Yeah?"

Silence, and for a moment, JC thinks the call must have been lost as the phone fell from Justin's fingers. Wouldn't be the first time, and he's told Justin that-

"JC?" Murmured quietly, breathed down the phone, and there's something else there, too. Soft sounds-- someone moving, shifting around.

"Bobbie-- is that you?" And it has to be, because no one else knows he's here. No one else knows. "What--"

"Shh," she says, "shh, JC, and listen."

And that's all he can do, can only listen to the soft, breathy sounds drifting down the line, to the gradual change in rhythm of her breathing, the slick glide of her fingers slipping between her thighs as she moans gently, sucks air between her teeth, whispers nonsense words. He listens to it all, heat pooling in his belly, his dick hot and heavy between his legs. He rubs himself with the heel of his hand as he listens, hears the way her breath catches, how it slips out of the phone and along his skin somehow, and he's pushing his hips upward a little now, rubbing harder, tensing his legs and curling his toes into the carpet. He closes his eyes and can see her on the bed, legs spread, lip caught between her teeth, her fingers buried deep inside.

"Fuck," he groans, shoving his hand beneath the waistband of his jeans, barely feeling the bite of metal against his knuckles. "Bobbie--"

She laughs, sudden and low and knowing-- and there's something else there, too. Another sound- something he almost recognises, can almost catch flickering just out of reach at the edge of his vision, and maybe if he wasn't about to come in his pants, he could--

"This is what she sounds like," he hears Bobbie say over the white-hot roar in his head, "just like this, JC. And her face looks beautiful."

Britney's moans slide like quicksilver through the wires and into his ear as he comes helplessly all over his fingers.

//

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