Title: "Choked Up" (1/1)
Author: FatJoey
Email: fatjsteel@ureach.com -- send feedback on list or private.
Rating: NC 17
Fandom: NSync
Pairing: Justin Timberlake/JC Chasez
Date: December 1, 2001
Archive: My stuff ends up at boybandfic.org. If you want to use it, let me know.
Category: Slash, RPS, definite humor
Disclaimer: This is just my own little fantasy and not meant to offend or interfere with anyone's civil rights or
sensibilities.
Summary: Justin and JC may have gone too far with their favorite sex game . . .
Warnings: This fic is supposed to be "nasty" -- it deals with erotic asphyxiation, which is a dangerous practice. Don't try this at home. Or try it at your own risk. If you decide to try it and you end up croaking someone, don't blame me! (Nobody in this fic gets "croaked" in the sense of being killed.)

Strong fingers pressed into Justin's neck, the hand stretching across his throat, carefully avoiding the larynx, as the thumb anchored itself in the tender skin under Justin's jaw.

Justin tried to swallow and found it difficult. The pressure on his wind pipe and carotid artery was making him lightheaded, and he tried to force out a noise that ended up being a gurgling sound.

JC knew exactly how to perform this incredibly erotic act that the two friends had indulged in for years. He seemed to sense just how far Justin wanted to go, and he knew when to hold back and when to push on -- push on to where Justin had a sparkling sensation inside his eyelids and blackness starting to cover his consciousness.

The sensation was as incredibly erotic as it had been the first time he had been choked, and Justin could feel his penis throbbing a rhythmic counterpoint to the pulse that was being squeezed off in his neck.

JC's naked, lean body was over Justin's, their lanky limbs tangled together, and JC had his face pressing against Justin's. JC's skin was incredibly cool and dry, while Justin felt beads of sweat rolling down his own temples, mingling with JC's wavy, unkempt hair. JC never seemed to sweat all that much during sex, which fascinated Justin. The guys would lose buckets of fluid during a performance, but even in his most passionate moments, JC stayed relatively remote and balanced.

This quality helped make him a fabulous lover.

The best part of JC's lovemaking, however, was definitely what went on inside that convoluted brain; JC's imagination was without peer when it came to sex. It had kept Justin enthralled for years, as JC directed their kinky interests in many different directions.

Justin still smiled when he thought of JC's newfound interest in wines, for instance. Few people knew the man's favorite way of
enjoying an especially fine vintage was with the use of an enema bag!

Justin felt himself drifting into semi-consciousness, almost too far gone, and at that very instant JC relaxed the pressure on his neck. Justin gulped in air as blood rushed to his head, warming every capillary in his face. His mouth started to water, and he wondered if he'd slobber all over JC's hair. He didn't really care, because he was ready to come.

"Oh, shit," he croaked out, a spasm gripping him as he shot all over JC's exposed hip. "Oh, shit . . ." he repeated, this time finishing in a groan.

JC reached over and kissed Justin's juicy mouth, using his choking hand to stroke the sweaty face. "Baby," he said softly.

Justin snuggled against him for a minute. "That was fabulous," he said. "Perfect."

"That should keep you from jumping Brit's frame the minute you see her," JC commented.

Justin stiffened, remembering he had a date with Britney Spears in just a couple hours. He needed to get up and get ready.

JC sighed as Justin pulled away.

"I better get my butt in gear," Justin drawled. "That girl hates to wait."

"I thought she was all about the waiting," JC commented, leaning back on the pillow while splaying his naked body across the wrinkled sheet.

Justin looked at him, pausing for a minute to admire the soft masculine beauty of his bandmate (as he was obviously meant to).

"Very funny," he answered.

Justin rummaged for his underwear, wondering if he should take a shower before he got dressed. He sniffed under one arm and decided he should.

"Gonna shower," he said, walking into the bathroom.

When Justin was squeaky clean - 'brand spankin' new' was what he and Brit called it in honor of MTV videos -- he climbed out of the shower and absently wrapped a towel around his waist. The mirror was a little foggy, and he rubbed at it impatiently. He didn't plan to shave, but he wanted to be sure he didn't have to.

The mirror cleared a little and Justin stared at his reflection. "Oh, shit," he said.

He heard JC's voice from the bedroom. "What's the matter?"

"Come here," Justin ordered. "Jesus, man! You left marks on my neck!"

JC walked slowly into the bathroom, still naked and looking somewhat sleepy. Justin ignored him, concentrating on the dark reddish finger tracks on the left side of his neck. There were two that were just over an inch long, standing out very clearly on his skin, with a third that looked like a smudge.

"How am I going to explain this?" he asked, pointing.

JC shrugged. "Wear a turtleneck," he suggested.

Justin made an exasperated sound. "Unlike you and P.G., Brit and I often get naked together," he said. "She's bound to see this!"

The reference to "P.G." was a common one among all the members of NSync. JC was used to hearing his significant other, Bobbee Thomas, referred to as Professional Girlfriend or sometimes even "P.B." -- Professional Beard.

JC came closer, fitting his long fingers against the marks on Justin's neck. "Wow, I don't remember that happening before," he
said, rubbing at the skin. "They're not fading out."

"No shit," Justin said. "Don't make them worse."

"Just pretend you hurt yourself somehow. Make up a story."

Justin looked at JC like he was crazy. "Oh, yeah. I accidentally bumped my neck against JC's hand! That works."

"Put on a necklace. Say it chafed you."

Justin looked hopeful. He walked into the bedroom, reaching for a box of jewelry. This called for something heavy, so he grabbed a big diamond "T" on a long, thick chain and draped it around his neck. The dark red marks were slightly above the chain, definitely a different size. It was doubtful she would fall for it.

"Come here," JC ordered. He reached over and grabbed the diamond "T," pulling the chain up and tightening it around Justin's neck. It bit into the sensitive flesh as JC tugged on it.

"Fuck! That hurts!"

"Shut up. Let me try this."

JC pulled so hard on the chain, Justin felt like he was being hanged. He pulled back, shoving JC away.

"Are you fucking nuts?" he said. "You're trying to kill me!"

He looked in the mirror over the bureau and saw another streak --this one a bright purple -- decorating the opposite side of his neck.

"Oh, fine, Jayce! I look like I've been experimenting with suicide!"

"Can't you just call off the date?" JC suggested. "Give it a day to tone down."

"Which mark? The old ones or the new one?" Justin opened a drawer and pulled out fresh underwear. "If I miss this date, I'm dead meat. Brit's under a lot of stress right now, and if I don't act supportive, I'll pay for it for months."

JC sniffed. "Go 'act supportive' then," he said. "Tell her the truth. 'Brit, when JC was choking me, he must have held on too tight and left some marks on my neck! Then he throttled me with a necklace and left another mark. That damned JC!'"

Justin couldn't help smiling at JC's nasally imitation of his voice and the ridiculous nature of the whole incident. He pulled on his
favorite jeans, snapping up the crotch.

"Well, I'll think of something," he said, tugging a tight turtleneck sweater over his head. "Hey, Brit, you can't believe what happened on my way over here! I was mugged . . . twice!"

JC lay back down on the bed and pulled a cover over his nude body, shivering a little. "If you don't get back too late, I'll find some other ways to leave marks that Britney won't be able to find!"

Justin grinned, grabbing his boots. "Don't count on it, daddy! She's 'not that innocent,' remember? I may come back here with some marks she leaves, like with those damn fake nails."

"Just don't have any bite marks on your balls. I hate that!" JC said, burying his head in the pillow.

"Unless you put them there," Justin commented, stuffing his wallet and keys into a pocket of his jeans. "Don't you want to give me a kiss goodbye?"

JC poked his head out. "Don't get mushy on me, Jus!"

"You're such a romantic," Justin said in a complaining tone, bending down to softly press his lips against those of his friend. "Love you, baby."

"Save it for Britney," JC said. "You're choking me up!"

The End