Another night over, another crowd filing out. Happy chatter faded as the audience headed up and over the stairs, off towards an exit which would lead them back out into the real world. In a quieter corner of the studio Jimmy finds himself telling the floor manager that he's too far gone to make the post-show meeting but that as penance he'll turn in early in the morning and deal with the critiquing then.

He knew that eyebrows would be raised but he has the perfect excuse. It's the same excuse that's been keeping him awake night after night since she was born. Not for a second did he have any regrets about their decision but his stubborn refusal to hire a nanny was starting to look like a bad move. Nancy was all for it as she knew the demands of his job were immense, probably more than he did, but the last thing he wanted was to be that guy on the middle pages of the magazines out partying while someone else was getting paid to raise his child.

After a taping he usually entertained the guests in the green room before retiring to his dressing room for a shower and a change of clothes. Instead before leaving Justin had called in to see him, complimenting him on another great show. There was no firm handshake or polite nods, just a huge bear hug before they parted ways for the night. Over time they had become much more than guest and host; it was an honest friendship and one Jimmy treasured on a number of levels, not least because it was great to have someone to trust absolutely. Justin didn't need him which set him apart from most others that he met through the business.

A terse nod to the security guys was all he could manage and as his car pulled to the stage door he felt relieved that there was nobody waiting anywhere for him. A swift glance to the sky conveyed his quiet thanks for the heavy rain that had deluged the city and always made his journey home much quicker. He was the guy who couldn't say no and had lost count of the number of times he'd made the car stop to speak to the fans out in the cold who looked so desperate just for a quick chat or a picture. He had been that kid once, waiting to meet an idol and more often than not going home disappointed so he understood only too well how they felt.

The low hum of the engine soothed his brain and soon the lights of the city blurred together as Jimmy let his eyes narrow, the weight of the world doing it's best to drag his eyelids down. Lately he was beyond tired and pretty close to running on empty but kept going because he had to. Despite everything that had happened in his life the one thing he knew was to keep his head down and keep going and hope to get to the other side.

Before long the car pulled up outside the large metal gates that shielded him and so many others from public view and for the first time in days he took a deep breath that didn't end in a sigh. It was Friday night, the city was going crazy but all he could do was think of a long hot shower and ignoring half a bad movie which would inevitably send him off to sleep anyway. He was a free man for the night and collapsing into an unmade bed and sleeping amongst the morning's spilled toast crumbs sounded like bliss.

His keys landed in the bowl by the door and after dumping his coat and scarf Jimmy chose to ignore the red flashing light on the answering machine that sat on the stand beside the bowl. If anyone who mattered wanted him then they had a better number to reach him on. For a moment he leaned back on the door and considered just grabbing a beer and slouching on the couch but the shower was too tempting and he peeled off his clothes on the walk to the wet room, making a mental note to put them in the hamper as it was more than his life was worth not to.

As the hot water pounded his skin Jimmy knew he could allow himself to relax. The longer hair slicked flat to his forehead and the water continued down over his closed eyelids and flowed off the point of his chin. Minute after minute passed and he felt perfectly alone and calm, something he rarely got to enjoy. If it wasn't another knock on his dressing room door it was a camera in his face or a meeting about another new project. The success he craved for so long had taken over and it often felt like there was more persona than person left to go around.

After reluctantly shutting the water off he reached for the horrific monogrammed towel that waited for him on the rail, shaking his head at the notion that anyone would actually want to give that as a gift, yet alone receive it. A minute of vigorous drying and he felt better, crossing the room to dump the towel and grab the comfy clothes that were hung on the door. In the steamed up mirror he caught a glimpse of himself that made him stand and stare. All Jimmy could make out was a rather blurry image of a tired face topped with a mess of dark hair. Gone was the suit and tie, gone was the hair product and ton of make up that hid the circles under his eyes. Staring back was the kid who dreamed of making it to primetime with nothing more than quick wit, a troll, a dozen impressions and an unembarrassable part of his soul that dared and allowed him to do what others wouldn't.

He slipped the grey sweats and white t-shirt on and then moved away from the mirror, conscious that it wasn't good to spend too much time concentrating on the state of his face at the business end of the day. Once the room was in something near it's pre-shower state he headed to the lounge via the kitchen, a cold soda as much as he dared to indulge himself with out of the well stocked refrigerator. The bourbon bottle on the counter had been eyeballed and dismissed as a bad idea. It might temporarily close the freeway that ran through his head but would only lead to gridlock when the pleasant warmth wore off in the morning.

Eventually the big screen was prompted to flicker into life but by the time he had collapsed onto the couch and settled on a channel he was already well past looking at it. The alone moments were the ones he both cherished and dreaded of late; pleased for the silence and the rest but not for the fact that he had nothing to distract him. The thoughts that tormented him did their finest work when he had a spare moment and proved that the saying about idle hands was still true. With a begrudging lean he deposited the half empty soda can on the coffee table and then flopped back against the huge scatter cushions, letting them swallow him up.

Jimmy ran his hand through his hair then over his face, trying his best to get his resolve together and not let his mind wander. His eyes blinked shut for a second longer than he would have liked and in an instant there it was, the mental image that had become his brain's screensaver. The hairs on his arms stood on end and he allowed himself to relive the sensation of the fingers tracing his arms, the contact only soft but strong enough to be identifiable. The warmth building around his back felt familiar and the dangerously vivid memory was alive again.

...

Rehearsals had become a big part of his weekly routine since SNL. There was always some crazy segment planned, some song and dance number for a special episode to rehearse. The shows that were built entirely around Justin were the most demanding on his time and that meant that Jimmy teetered on the brink of his confused emotions once more. He didn't understand them or really want them but the unending rehearsals fueled them every single day.

Football season was right around the corner and it was going to be a big theme for the latest run of shows. Justin had a new project to tout and the two seemed to dovetail nicely for the writers. Jimmy knew that the chance to get so many new viewers was not to be missed and, as ever, he went along with every suggestion, even the dancing ones. Especially the dancing ones.

He could cope with chest bumping and butt wiggling but it was one particular dance he had a problem with. That dance, that scene that had cracked the lock on his Pandora's box. Day after day he sat on the floor in a dance studio with Justin wrapped around him, the closeness and the sensation deepening every time. At first it was just a pair of arms slipped over his own and a reach for the imaginary pottery wheel before he shrugged Justin off. Then it turned into hands over his as they mimed shaping the pot together. Then it had reached it's current incarnation; the running of fingertips over his arms and up his neck and onto his face. Nobody planned it that way, it just turned out that the producers saw that it was something to play with and and seemed sure that it would get a bigger and better reaction every time it grew that bit more outrageous. Justin was happy to agree and Jimmy found himself getting little say in the matter. He couldn't have admitted that he didn't mind but played along as if he was cool with it anyway, that much was expected of him.

When it came to the actual day he was grateful to be dressed in something layered and long sleeved. He needed minimal contact with his skin to get to the end of the skit safely. It went as well as it could have despite it causing the knot that formed in the bottom of his gut. He wondered if Justin had been as close to him as it felt, the remembered sensation of the hard chest against his back the only evidence he had to go on until he found the time to watch the video back.

...

By the time Jimmy opened his eyes again there was that same uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. With a deep sigh he realized that it could be the tightening of his sweats around his his hips that was causing the problem. Slowly he flexed his hands and shoved them flat under the backs of his thighs as if sitting on them would make the tented material subside. All it did was pull the soft cotton tighter and it brushed against the most sensitive part of his anatomy. A thin veil of perspiration beaded on his top lip and he swallowed hard, doing all he could to ignore the feeling.

He knew it was wrong to have those thoughts about a friend, especially a good friend. They fooled around and played up their relationship at every given chance on the basis that it made people talk. The way he and Justin touched each other was a marker of how comfortable they were together after so many years of friendship. Jimmy got the feeling that Justin maybe wondered if there was something more to it but it had never come up in conversation. He tried his best not to ponder if he felt the same; it achieved nothing other than to make him feel more awkward than usual. Jimmy knew that there had long been rampant speculation about him and that inadvertently he had done everything he could to keep that going. Any publicity kept him current but he knew that there were a number of journalists, bloggers and news anchors that would kill to prove that his marriage was a sham.

With a sigh he released his right hand and used it to pull up his t-shirt before hooking his thumb under the elastic of his waistband and letting his hand slip beneath. Closing his eyes helped to shut out his surroundings, from the trinkets and framed photos that sat above the fireplace to the heavy drapes that they had picked out together just a few weeks ago. Still his guts twisted, conscience prickling him and acknowledging that it was wrong to even entertain jacking off at the thought of another man, something he had done his best not to do since getting married.

His fingers curled around his shaft and he squeezed firmly, gasping at how hard he already was and knowing that his fantasy of what should have happened after that night in the studio was going to be more than enough to get him off. After running his tongue over his dry and parted lips he made the mental note that it was a one off and that he wouldn't do it again. Until the next time.

...

"You enjoyed tonight, huh? We did okay. They laughed."

"Yeah, good show. They love you as a guest, my man. You happy with it?"

"Always. Great crowd, good company..."

The words hung in the air and they stared at one another.

"Sure, well, I'll let you get out of here. Time to get home to the good lady, right?."

"Not me. I'm a free man tonight Jimmy. You wanna come over for a beer or something? I even have that European stuff you like that costs the network a fortune."

Jimmy hesitated briefly but he knew Nancy would be fine with him taking an hour out. She was forever telling him to carry on as normal and reassuring him that everything would still be there when he got home.

"I guess. I don't have a better offer as long as you're going to let me watch the show go out."

Justin shook his head and grabbed his coat.

"I'll see you out there. My car awaits, fair princess."

With a flourish Justin was gone and Jimmy almost broke his neck to get showered and dressed, doing at speed as if his life depended on it.

...

Two hours later and they were both seven beers deep. The bottles were small but the contents potent.

"You messed up the chicken dance."

"I know. I hate it. Deliberate, man."

The grin on Justin's face was deliberate too.

"And they say you're one of the best around, Timberlake. Amateur, that's more like it."

An elaborate eyeroll from Justin saw him get up and start doing an exaggerated version of the chicken around the room.

"You only wish you could move like this Fallon."

"No, I only wish you could see yourself. You look like a clown. A fool."

Jimmy emptied the bottle in his hand and put it on the side table before rising to his feet.

"I'd better go. Early start."

"Quit the excuses James. You still can't dance."

"I can and you know I can."

Seconds later he was somewhere between the Mick Jagger chicken and the bus stop when the heavy beat in the background stopped. Instead it was replaced with something that sounded familiar but that his dulled reactions couldn't quite place.

Justin walked around behind him and slid his hands down the plaid shirt sleeves and pulled them up to expose Jimmy's forearms.

"You know how to do this one I hear."

Grabbing Jimmy's wrists Justin pulled him close, making sure their bodies were flush together until he heard something like a low groan from the man in front of him.

"Jimmy, let's just get this over and done with. I'm sick of messing around. You want this, I want this. C'mon."

"I... I can't. I don't want to."

"Like hell you don't. I'm not stupid Jimmy. I see the way you look at me. I've seen the way you look at Seth in the right light so I know that look. Half of America knows that look."

"That transparent, huh?"

"Totally but there's nothing wrong with that. It's nice to feel so wanted."

Closing his eyes helped Jimmy deal with the awkwardness and he asked his question quietly.

"By me?"

The warm breath passing his right ear and cheek distracted him long enough that he didn't notice one of the hands letting go of his wrist and sliding down the front of his body, stopping briefly to pull open the belt buckle before popping the button fly on his suit trousers.

"You want me to prove that to you?"

A nod. A nod was all he had.

Justin's mocking stopped when he pushed his hand under the waistband of the cotton trunks that were distorted obscenely. His own cock twitched as his fingers traced the warm and smooth head before slipping down to surround Jimmy's surprisingly thick shaft. He started to move his hand up and down slowly, stroking with no pressure.

"I've wanted to fuck you just as long as you've wanted to fuck me Jimmy. Not now but soon I'm going to throw you on that couch in your office and fuck you with your face pressed against the glass. I'm going to be the dirty secret that gets you through the day and keeps you up all night. All night."

The hoarse sounding gasp that broke the relative silence of the room turned into a low groan. Jimmy was usually embarrassed to let noises like that out of his mouth, let alone when his friend's hand was down his pants and doing a far too competent job of getting him off.

"We can't..."

"We can and right now we are. I'm gonna keep going until you're done. Just relax man, let me make this happen."

Jimmy's guilt faded fast as his adrenaline levels rocketed. He started rocking his hips forward to meet the downward stroke and to try and speed it up. Half of him knew that he should savour it in case it never happened again but the other half wanted to collapse onto the sofa with his boxers a sticky mess and Justin stood over him smiling that trademark smile.

It had been years since he'd had the touch of another man on his body and it felt good. The who, the how, the when and the where were all coming together just like he was about to. Pushing back he felt the constrained flesh in Justin's jeans and knew that one day he would find out what it was like to be laid underneath his friend with the denim torn from between them and left crumpled in a pile on the floor.

"Justin, Justin, Man, I'm... fuck..."

...

With a sharp spasm Jimmy felt his body tense head to toe and his toes curled hard into the plush pile carpet. Unable to suppress the cry coming from the back of his throat he bit down on his lip and used the last of his energy to stifle at least some of it. He sat his hips back and pushed softly through his curled fingers one last time as the warm jets pulsed out and landed just above his navel. Looking down he saw his nipples pushing against the soft cotton and he could feel them aching to be twisted, that being the one kink he could get most lovers to oblige.

The flicker of the television screen was instantly more than his screwed up eyes wanted to handle and with his clean hand he reached for the remote and clicked it off. The darkness of the room seemed more fitting for the dark feeling that came over him, the feeling of weakness and defeat that once more he had used the though of something between him and Justin to get off.

He pushed the waistband of his sweats down out of the way and used the bottom of his t-shirt to clean up some of the mess, wiping his hand dry on it before carefully peeling it off and staring at the bunched up fabric. With a frustrated grunt he tossed it over his head and out into the hall so that the evidence definitely made it out of the lounge and towards the trash or the hamper.

Another guilty pleasure, another "just because I love you so much" bunch of flowers to send and another uncomfortable meeting with Justin in two days time for more show planning. Jimmy leaned to one side before eventually curling up tight on the couch and covering his face with a scatter cushion. The complete darkness met and mixed with the endorphins and a few minutes later a yawn finally came. It was getting harder to fight the thoughts that ate away at his happiness and drove him to the bottom of beer bottles night after night. The thought that he was living a lie was too much to handle and he screwed his eyes shut tight as if that would make the whole problem go away. Jimmy hoped for sleep if not rest and said a silent prayer for respite from his obscene thoughts for a few days. If granted, he would definitely pen a thank you note for that.

A/N: Yeah, someone had to do it eventually, right? I got tired of people saying there needed to be Jimmy/Justin fic so I wrote some. If you like it let me know, I might write some more! These two pretty much write themselves, that's all I can say.

All reads and reviews appreciated, flames and flamers however are not appreciated.