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"Seriously, Joey's doing a buddy cop movie?" Justin asked, lifting his legs to wiggle his toes in front of JC's face. When nothing happened, he cradled the phone between his chin and shoulder to use both hands to gesture at his feet.
"Yeah, man – and not just doing it: he's got one of the leads and all," Chris said, the pride in his voice audible.
"That's, you know, cool," Justin murmured, his voice trailing off into an actual purr when JC finally took the hint and nimble fingers started rubbing the soles of his feet. "I always wanted to do something like that."
"Well, what's stopping you – I'm pretty sure the buddy concept means they're looking for another guy," Chris teased. "And he did mention how cool it would be if the two of you would – "
"I don't think playing opposite Joey is what my career needs right now," Justin interrupted him without thinking, his brow furrowing when JC's warm hands disappeared even before he'd finished his sentence.
"Right, well, I guess someone forgot their diva-medication today – " Chris sounded completely calm, but Justin wasn't at all surprised when the line suddenly went dead: he wasn't the only one who forgot his medication from time to time.
"I really don't think it's fair to punish my feet for the stuff that comes out of my mouth," he tried after a long moment of silence, teasingly pressing the heels of his feet into JC's lap.
"It's just - It's not like I don't know it wouldn't be fair to Joey. No matter how good he'd be – he'd still get the whole 'riding on Timberlake's coattails' thing," JC murmured, his hands returning to Justin's feet, if only to still their movement.
"Right," Justin agreed, nodding. "Man, why didn't I go with that just now?"
"Because you think being particularly assholic will give you some street cred?" JC suggested as he looked down at where his dick was once again disproving JC's ancient theory that he was anything but easy.
"With Chris?"
"Oh," JC blinked. "Yeah, I guess that ship has pretty much sailed."
"A long, long time ago," Justin nodded.
"Then maybe it's because you got many talents but tact isn't one of 'em?" JC asked absently, his gaze still fixed to his lap. He slowly released his hold on Justin's ankles.
"Well, obviously, but – " Justin glanced at JC just in time to catch his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Slowly. Justin's eyes narrowed. "Right. You know, I feel this sudden urge to show you one of those many talents."
JC pouted. "Just the one?"
***
"Guess what," Justin announced the following morning. He paused for dramatic effect.
Not quite on cue, JC finally glanced up from his knitting – Justin instantly decided to ignore the pink mitten part of this new knitting project – tilted his head, and managed to sound semi-interested when he said, "I give up, what?"
"I decided I'm going to do the movie with Joey," Justin said, folding his arms across his chest, nodding to himself as his eyes were drawn to the pink mittens. The big pink mittens, which was kind of weird: JC's hands were nowhere near that big.
JC arched one eyebrow. "What? Pink isn't your color?"
"Everything's my color, it's just – wait, didn't you hear me just now, I'm doing the movie,” Justin repeated patiently.
"Oh, I heard you," JC said, shrugging.
"Okay," he prompted, waiting a short moment for JC to start talking on his own accord, before stretching his leg and poking him with his big toe.
JC almost managed to stifle a giggle, shaking his head as his hand batted at Justin's foot idly. "I don't want you to do it just to show everyone what a good guy you are, that's all," he said, his smile softening the hint of sharpness in his voice.
"I am a good guy."
"We know," JC said quietly. "Don't try so hard, that's all I'm saying."
"Right," Justin sighed, not sure what to make of JC's words. He shrugged, replaying the conversation in his mind, and his eyes widened. "Wait – what did you mean with the whole pink isn't your color thing?"
***
"And then C said I should stop trying so hard to be a good guy. Which I am, by the way. But, you know, JC – he was knitting mittens. Pink mittens. For me," Justin clarified even when Chris had already started grinning on the other end of the line. "Can't exactly take someone seriously when they're knitting you mittens. Pink mittens."
"Oh, I don't know about that, man. I mean, you know what they say: out of the mouths of babes and guys who knit pink mittens – "
"Isn't that out of the mouths of babes and drunks?"
"What, you're trying to tell me C was knitting you pink mittens - sober?"
Justin nodded, because if they'd been talking about anyone but JC that would actually be a perfectly reasonable explanation. "Good point."
Chris gasped.
"Don't be so surprised, man, it had to happen some time. So – " Justin hesitated. "Guess I'm not doing that movie after all."
"What?" Chris paused, reminding Justin where he'd picked up the art of dramatic pauses. "You're kidding me right? Because I so didn't see that coming. I mean, after we talked about it the first time I went and put some serious money on you boys buddying up. I even told Lance: 'move over, buddy, 'cause Justin's going to show the world who's the real best bud here'," Chris drawled. "And now you tell me you're not, and I'm, well, shocked. Totally shocked."
"Right, I almost forgot: you're a funny guy."
"Thanks. I do try," Chris said modestly, ignoring Justin's snorting. "Speaking of funny – you think there's any money in betting on Justin Timberlake wearing pink mittens out in public some time soon?"
Justin sighed. "Some serious money even - "