“Justin,” you sing breathily into his ear as he’s standing in front of the mirror, straightening his tie.

 

“What?” he asks, not really paying attention, wiping at the sleeves of his suit jacket.

 

“How much time we got before the show?” you ask, running your hands over his shoulders and down his arms.

 

His eyes meet yours in the mirror and you lick your lips. He sighs. “Fifteen minutes.” He turns to face you, leaning against the counter. “Five of which I will be using to get onto the stage. Not enough time babe.”

 

“Sure it is,” you say tugging on his lapels.

 

“No it’s not. I can’t even come that fast,” he says and turns back to the mirror, running a hand over his hair.

 

You pout. “But it’s been ages Justin,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around him from behind and pressing your cheek into his back, listening to his heart thud steadily into your ear.

 

“It’s been a day,” he laughs and you feel it vibrate against your cheek.

 

“Justin?” a voice says from the doorway, “Show time man.”

 

You hear his heartbeat increase in volume and frequency before he detaches himself from your embrace and gives you a quick peck on the forehead before he leaves the dressing room. You follow him, jogging a little to catch up, slipping your hand in his. He smiles at you as you walk down the hall together and he releases you before strutting off into the stadium.

 

You watch the first half of the show from V.I.P. and as “Chop Me Up” goes into its final cords you make your way to the entrance to underneath the stage. The dancers are filing out and you see Justin’s form retreat into his personal changing area. You slip in before Johanna gets a chance to close the curtain completely. She looks at you with a sigh before leaving through the curtain. Justin’s down to his wife beater and he looks over his shoulder as he undoes his belt.

 

“Mere I told you,” he says dropping his pants. “You can’t do this when I’m working.”

 

He pulls his wife beater over his head and you try not to moan at the way his entire body is glistening with sweat. He reaches for a towel and you do moan as he rubs it over his chest and arms.

 

You step forward, reaching out to touch him, any part of him. God you are so horny. Something about watching him shimmy and shake across the stage, grind up on the dancers revs you up in a way that makes you want him right then and there. Don’t even get you started on his voice…

 

“Meredith!” he exclaims, pushing your hands away. “Seriously!”

 

He grabs for the clean wife beater and turns away from you as he pulls it over his head. You scowl and storm away from him, really wishing that it was physically possible to slam a curtain. You tell Johanna that she can go back in and start making your way back out into the stadium. You run into Nancy, literally on your way out.

 

“Hey,” he says breathlessly and you can’t help glaring at her, knowing she’s getting more action with your man than you are at this point. “Woah what’s with the dagger eyes?”

 

“Sorry,” you say. “He’s being an ass.”

 

“You know how he gets when he’s working,” she says, placing a hand on your arm and giving you a sympathetic smile that kind of makes you want to slap her.

 

She moves to walk past you when suddenly you remember something. You grab her arm and pull her in so you can whisper. “Do you still have those pills we talked about?”

 

She looks at you, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you said he didn’t need those.”

 

“He doesn’t,” you grin mischievously and Nancy’s face goes from surprise to understanding to uneasiness in a flash. “Don’t worry I won’t say where I got them.”

 

“They’re in my bag in the dancer’s room,” she says after a moment and you smile widely, giving her arm a squeeze before flouncing out into the stadium and backstage.

 

You spend the rest of the show in V.I.P. sipping your drink, watching your man do his thing. You make your way back under the stage as he finishes up “LoveStoned” and slip back into the changing area. Johanna is busy getting his casual outfit ready so she doesn’t notice you grab his travel mug of tea. Luckily it’s almost empty so all you have to do is twist off the cap and grab the contact lens holder from your pocket. You pop the top off and tip the dust of the little blue pill you had crushed up backstage into his mug. You replace the cap just as he comes into the changing area. Giving the mug a quick swirl and turn to him, finding his brows knit, his eyes searching the tables.

 

You smile sweetly as you hold his mug out to him and he takes it, eyeing you wearily before tipping his head back and draining the contents. You give him a small peck on the cheek, placing your hands on his hips as you slide past him.

 

You go back to your barstool and watch him go through “SexyBack” and as he makes his way onto the stage for his encore you check your watch. It’s been about fifteen minutes. You grin evilly as he settles himself behind the piano, the crowd going insane.

 

“So did you guys have a good time tonight?”

 

The crowd explodes and its utter pandemonium around you, every last person on their feet, screaming at the top of their lungs. You keep your seat sipping your drink calmly. Anytime now…

 

“I don’t even know how to respond to that…” he trails, smiling as the roar, that was starting to ebb, grows again to full volume. His eyes sweep around the area, his fingers drumming on the top of the piano. “I…uh” he looks down and swallows hard, giving them his ‘aw shucks’ country boy face as he looks back around at the crowd. “…I just…I just wanna say to every single person here, how much it means to me that you came out.”

 

The crowd erupts again and he smiles, waiting for the adoration to quiet a little before going on. “On behalf of me…the band…the dancers, and the crew I hope you all had a great time tonight…I know we certainly did.”

 

You check your watch again and you literally can’t stop smiling. Any second…“I just don’t know what to say…I’m just so humbled by this…” He pauses, his face tightening a little and you laugh out loud. On of the hands that was resting on the top of the piano moves to lay across his lap. “…uh…moment.”

 

“I um…I wake up…um…” he pauses, looking down and swallowing hard. This time you know it’s not the ‘aw shucks’ routine. “…every morning and I just can’t think that this is my job…I mean I can’t believe that this is my job…I just wanted to thank you… all… thank all of you.”

 

He clears his throat and nods to Kevin who gives him a strange look before starting into “Another song.” If you didn’t know him so well you wouldn’t notice how strained his voice sounds, and how he isn’t his usual animated self behind the keys. He is very methodic and (you can’t help but giggle) stiff. He ends the song abruptly, not holding out the last of it like he usually does and he stays behind the piano as the first chords of “Bitter Sweet Symphony” fill the hall. You watch as he looks at his lap and steels himself before standing and doing his bows.

 

He turns to your side of the stage last and you nearly spit out your wine when you see the humungous bulge in his trousers, his face flushed from embarrassment. The dancers and crew exit the stage and he quickly bows to all four corners of the stage before, literally, running down the stairs and under the curtain.

 

You slide in behind his security as they escort him to the backstage area and watch as he barely acknowledges the fans hanging over the railing trying to reach for his hand. Once he’s off the floor he breaks into a sprint, heading straight into his dressing room. You jog in after him just in time to see him kick Rachel out.

 

“Alright, Justin I’m going!” she exclaims, grabbing her purse.

 

“And take the dogs,” he barks, going into the bathroom and slamming the door behind him.

 

Rachel gives you a wide eyed, ‘what the fuck is his problem’ look as she leashes the dogs and makes her way out of the dressing room. You hear the shower turn on in the bathroom and reach for the knob, body tingling with anticipation. It doesn’t turn.

 

“Jus, baby?” you coo, trying to keep the laughter from your voice. “Everything okay?”

 

You give a little scream as the door flies open and you’re jerked roughly inside. He’s completely naked and – holy shit – his dick is bigger than you have ever seen it, the head a deep purple. The giggle in your throat dies when your eyes meet his. Pissed doesn’t even begin to describe the emotion that is playing across his handsome face.

 

“What the fuck did you do to me!” he yells, hands curling around your arms and giving you a little shake that sends fire curling down to your toes.

 

“I-I-I-” You can’t even form words you are so turned on.

 

He lets you go and his eyes close as he lets out a whine and stomps his foot against the tile. You reach out to run a hand down his chest and he looks at you again.

 

“I know you did something,” he says, as your hand slides back up, running a forefinger along his collarbone. “You have this look on your face.”

 

You’re not listening to him, just watching your fingers slide down his rippled abdomen. You yelp when he grabs your wrists, ripping them roughly away from him and holding them above your head.

 

“What did you do!” he yells again, eyes blazing. “And don’t fucking lie to me Meredith. I know when you lie.”

 

“I-I gave you something,” you stutter, and he sighs rolling his eyes.

 

“What was it?” he grits out and when you don’t respond his fingers dig into the delicate skin of your inner wrists causing you to hiss. “Tell me!”

 

“V-viagra,” you say, your voice small and you watch his eyes narrow and then he sighs letting you go and turning away in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb.

 

“Viagra!!!” he exclaims after a moment and this time you do giggle. “You are not fucking laughing at me.”

 

You put on a serious face and shake your head. “Of course not.”

 

“Why…” he pauses, rubbing his forehead. “Why would you do that?”

 

“I was mad,” you say softly and he leans in a little raising his eyebrows at you.

 

“Mad?” he asks, his voice strained as if he’s trying not to yell. “You were mad?”

 

“Yeah,” you say, shifting your feet, uncomfortable under the intense heat of his gaze.

 

“You were mad so you SLIPPED ME FUCKING VIAGRA IN THE MIDDLE OF MY FUCKING SHOW!!!”

 

You wince as his voice echoes harshly off the tiled walls. You open your mouth to protest but you don’t have a chance to get anything out. He has a hold of your wrists again, holding them together in one hand, and is practically ripping open the buttons of your jeans. He shoves them down your legs roughly and you kick them off your feet impatiently. You yelp as he tugs at the waistband of your panties, attempting to rip them but all he does is cause the fabric to dig painfully into your skin. He does it again with no avail. He releases your hands and you watch him grip both sides of your panties and tug hard, the material splitting in two. He gathers your wrists into one of his hands again, holding your arms over your head as he lifts you onto the sink.

 

“You must have wanted it pretty bad huh?” he asks and you nod your head as you feel him pulsing at your entrance. “Well little girl in the words of the prophet Jagger, you can’t always get what you want.”

 

He lets you go, and steps into the shower, swinging the curtain shut behind him. You pull your shirt over your head and discarding your bra you fling the curtain open and gasp when you find him under the spray, one hand supporting himself on the shower wall, the other working his dick furiously. He’s panting, his face screwed up and you can tell he’s chasing his orgasm. You lick your lips as you just stand there and watch, the muscles of his stomach sliding over one another under his labored breathing, the way his biceps bulge, how his fingers wrap beautifully around his cock. He gasps, his fingers curling against the wall and you watch the muscles in his back go rigid and taut as thick globs of come fall from his hand, slipping down the drain. You press your thighs together, panting.

 

He’s looking down at his dick in his hand, still hard as it was before his orgasm. He grits his teeth and looks back at you, his eyes completely dilated, his face flushed. You step into the shower and press a kiss to his throat, his adams apple bobbing under your lips. You trail your kisses down his heaving chest, your teeth nibbling on one of his nipples as you travel further down. You open your mouth, dragging your lips over the bumps and grooves of his stomach, feeling his muscles quiver. You circle his belly button with your tongue, dipping in and hearing him groan a little, his fingers wrapping in your hair.

 

You follow the thin line of hair down to his aching cock, taking it into your mouth, the salty taste of his come still lingering on the head. You swivel your tongue around him, relaxing your throat, as he slides completely in with a groan. His fingernails dig into your scalp as you slide your mouth hotly up and down his shaft. He hisses when you allow his dick to fall from your mouth, your lips traveling elsewhere.

 

As your mouth creates suction against that delicious spot where leg and pelvis meet, your hand cups one of his balls in your palm. The skin is velvety-soft and hot, and you cannot help kneading and rolling it gently between your fingers.

A hiss escapes his lips as you take both balls into your mouth. The hand in your hair clenches tighter, his body writhing beneath your ministrations You work your tongue over every last inch of them, lapping at them, tonguing the little dip between them. Each swipe of your tongue earns you another gurgling sound of approval from him.

You let his balls fall from your mouth, nuzzling your nose against the base of his cock and his legs widen more as you slide your lips along the side of his dick. Your hand reaches up to scrape your nails down the quivering muscles of his stomach before curling around the base of his cock, holding it in place while you take him in your mouth again and suck forcefully. The gurgling turns into load moaning instantly and he arches upward while you move up and down the musky length of his shaft, teeth occasionally grazing and tongue stroking and tracing. The hand in your hair lets up, sliding down to brush fingertips over your cheek. You hum in appreciation of his touch, which draws a long moan from him. You do it again and feel his muscles tense, his hands gripping your shoulders and his come fills your mouth, catching you a little by surprise, spilling down your chin.

 

You swallow as he collapses back against the shower wall, eyes closed, chest heaving.

 

“Justin! Are you done in there? We need to get back to the hotel.”

 

It’s Rachel. You watch his eyes snap open and he looks down at his dick, still completely solid and unrelenting. He looks at you helplessly, his eyes tired and you feel a pang of guilt.

 

“We’ll be out in a minute,” you holler and watch him wince. He doesn’t like it when it’s known that he’s been getting some. He’s modest like that.

 

“Oh…” Rachel’s voice falters. “Um okay…sorry.”

 

You grab your clothes and pull them on quickly. He’s still standing under the spray, looking at you dumbly.

 

“Come on,” you say holding his clean clothes out to him.

 

“What am I gonna do about this!” he exclaims, gesturing towards his erection.

 

You eye it, wanting nothing more than to climb on top of him but you know that will have to wait.

 

“You’re gonna shove it in your pants till we get on the bus,” you say and he sighs miserably.

 

He pulls on his clothes, trying to adjust himself to where it doesn’t look like he has a raging hard on but to no avail. He sighs again and you do your best to hide your smile. He pulls the hood of his jacket over his head and follows you out.

 

The bus is waiting for you just outside the venue and you both climb on, finding Buckley and Brennan lying across the couches. The jump up to greet their master, all wagging tails and happy pants. He smiles painfully, patting their heads as he slides past them to the bedroom. You follow him, feeling a little guilty for closing the door on them.

 

You turn and find Justin pulling his clothes off with earnest. You smile as he gestures for you to come over.

 

“Somebody’s antsy,” you tease and he grabs you roughly, forcing you down onto the bed.

 

He rips your clothes from your body and flips you deftly, bending you over the edge of the bed. You hear him drop to his knees behind you and feel the pulsing head against your entrance. He hisses as he rubs himself in your wetness before sliding in. You grip the sheets as he starts thrusting slowly into you. You can practically feel him pulsing inside of you, almost as if he’s vibrating softly. You moan as he grips your shoulders, pulling you back roughly against him, his balls slapping against your clit in a sweet, torturous way. You feel one of his hands snake its way down your body, sliding between your legs. He finds your clit and rubs furiously, throwing your forcefully into the most intense pleasure, screaming his name. He works you through your orgasm, rhythm steady and pounding, causing tiny sparks to continue to shoot through your body even after the strong tremors of your release have subsided.

 

His arms slide under your stomach as he lies against you back, his hips rolling into yours steadily. His cheek is pressed against your spine and you can feel his breath fanning across your damp skin. Little grunts and soft whines spill from his lips, his hips twitching relentlessly, his dick so hard inside you. You can feel your second orgasm building as he grips the sheets around you, pulling himself up so that his chin is on your shoulder, his mouth right next to your ear.

 

“You like this?” he asks, his voice thick. “You like that I can fuck you non-stop.” His teeth dig into your shoulders, sending sparks down your spine. “You like how hard my dick is? Is this what you fucking wanted?”

 

You moan in response and he pulls his body up higher and his cock slides right against your g-spot. This along with the nasty things he’s whispering into your ear send you trembling and shaking into your second orgasm of the night, which is amplified by his own, hearing him moan your name, feeling him rush into you.

 

He pulls out of you and rolls to sit next to your body, still draped over the end of the bed, both of you panting and spent. You hear what sounds like a sob pull from his throat and look over to find him sitting there, his erection still standing. He hangs his head in exhaustion and you touch his shoulder.

 

“I can’t,” he pants, his head falling back, eyes closed. “I can’t anymore, Mere. I can’t.”

 

You shush him softly, straddling his hips. “Don’t worry baby,” you whisper, smoothing the hair back from his forehead. “I’ll take care of you.”

 

You slide your aching pussy down over him and he sighs, his head still hanging back, eyes tightening shut. You press your lips to his throat, feeling it vibrate as he hums his approval. You rise slowly, wrapping your arms around his neck. His head falls forward, forehead resting on your shoulder as you slide back down. You roll your hips, listening to him whimper softly. His fingers splay across your back as you work him slow and steady. You can already feel your release building again, your clit grinding sweetly against his hip bone. His breathing is hitching with every twitch of your hips now and his head falls back again. You lean forward, pressing your clit harder into him and stars explode behind your eyes as you reach your peak, wave after wave of pleasure washing over your.

 

His hands grip your hips firmly, slamming your down hard onto him. You lean back and watch his face, his mouth open in a silent scream, his eyes unfocused and dilated. He makes a strangled sound as every muscle in his body tightens and he squeezes his eyes shut, tears sliding down his cheeks as he comes hard, dry this time, nothing left to give.

 

He collapses back against the bed, head lolling to the side and you feel him softening inside you. He sighs, laughing a little, running a hand over his face as you slide off him.

 

“I can’t move,” he moans, his entire body limp for the first time in two hours.

 

You giggle a little, sitting on the bed and hooking your arms underneath his. You pull and he grunts as you use all your strength to try and pull his large frame onto the bed. He laughs, his legs kicking feebly at the floor, trying to aid you.

 

You are both laughing so hard by the time you’re both lying next to each other that tears are streaming down your face. He reaches up a shaking hand to wipe them away and cups your face. He waits for your laughter to subside before he speaks.

 

“If you ever do that to me again I swear to God-”

 

“You loved it,” you sigh, cutting him off and watching him fall back against the pillows with a sigh.

 

“That is beside the point,” he says and you laugh again. “Seriously though Mere, not during a show.”

 

You sigh. “Fine.”

 

“Promise?” Silence. He pulls himself up on his elbows. “Promise?!”

 

“I’m not promising you anything,” you say and he scowls.

 

“I want you to promise me-”

 

“In the words of the prophet Jagger,” you say and he rolls his eyes falling back against the pillows once more. “You can’t always get what you want.”