Snow
Lance thought whoever had come up with this whole Snowed In concept was a genius. He was having a blast, even if he had fallen on his ass a million times, trying to snowboard. Justin, of course, was zipping flawlessly up and down the mountain, but Justin wasn’t trying to do showy tricks or navigate snowboarding courses miles beyond his capabilities. Justin approached snowboarding the way he did everything else, carefully, calculating the risks, then pushing himself hard enough to be really good at it, but not hard enough to fail. Lance didn’t begrudge him that, it was one of the things that made NSYNC so successful, and that was just the way Justin was. Some people didn’t handle failure well at all.Lance, however, was lucky that he hadn’t broken anything vital, and also, that no one important was really paying much attention to him today. He didn’t see the point of trying something new, something that involved speed and new clothes and special equipment, if you weren’t going to go all out. But he spent half his free time peering around corners as he navigated his way through the lodge, just waiting for someone in charge to start yelling at him about insurance and cancelled appearances due to his potential broken legs if he didn’t knock it off with the daredevil stuff.
He and Justin came in off the slopes in the early afternoon. The MTV cameras had been up there with them, they were, in fact everywhere, and MTV cameras were one area where Lance was not reckless. Justin’s nose was red from the cold, and Lance had to resist the urge to plant a warm, wet kiss on it. Justin waved at the cameras, saying, “Hey, y’all, gotta get out of these wet clothes. Later.”
They headed for the elevators, laughing and bumping shoulders as they went, knowing full well the cameras would continue filming until the elevator doors closed. Once inside, Lance collapsed against Justin’s chest, still giggling at the expression on Justin’s face when Lance almost crashed into Carson at the bottom of the slope. Justin brushed melting snow out of Lance’s hair and smiled indulgently at him. “It’s a good thing Johnny isn’t here yet, man,” he said. “He’d kick your ass if he could see you doing that shit.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose, Justin. I thought I could get stopped in time.” Lance’s laughter trailed off as he spoke, his voice muffled by Justin’s jacket. “You’re the one who taught me how to stop, it’s your fault I did it wrong.”
“Dude, you can’t kill Carson Daly. You do, and there go our careers.” The elevator doors slid silently open, and Justin gave Lance a push. “Get going.”
Glancing up and down the deserted hallway as they approached their rooms, Lance said, “Hey, you want to come help me get warmed up?” He waggled his eyebrows in what he hoped was an irresistible invitation.
Justin looked around the corridor, too, then nodded. “Let me get some clothes and stuff. Be right there.”
Fifteen minutes later, Justin had Lance pinned against cool bathroom tiles, steam swirling around them in the spacious shower, arms over his head, both of Lance’s wrists trapped in his hand. Lance’s fingers curled helplessly as Justin moved his other hand gently over his ass and laughed softly.
“Dude, you’ve got a huge bruise on your ass.”
Lance peered back over his shoulder, trying to see. “Really?”
“Yeah, it must be from one of the many, many times you fell on it.” Justin grinned, water running down his face and into his eyes, and Lance tried to kiss him, twisting his arms in an attempt to get free and reach his mouth. Justin kissed him briefly, firmly, then shook his head, pressing up against his back and tightening his grip on Lance’s wrists, his other hand sliding smoothly over Lance’s slick skin and down between his legs.
Lance caught his breath and pushed his hips back, arching into Justin’s touch. Justin kissed his neck, licking behind his ear and Lance shivered under the warm spray. As Justin slipped two fingers inside him, Lance pressed his forehead against the wall, moaning.
“I love the sounds you make,” Justin murmured in his ear, twisting his fingers and making Lance moan again. “That’s it, baby. Let me hear you.”
Lance really had no choice, not when Justin had him like this. He let himself go, gasping when Justin finally slid deep inside, groaning as Justin fucked him until he didn’t think his legs would hold him up any longer. “Oh, shit, shit,” he gritted out when Justin reached around to roughly jerk him off. Justin wasn’t particularly quiet either, and when he came, he hissed Lance’s name, his fingers tightening around Lance’s wrists, probably leaving bruises to match the one on his ass.
Lance loved big hotels, because they almost never ran out of hot water, no matter how long you stayed in the shower. He stood there, luxuriating in the warmth, as Justin gently rubbed his arms, placing a soft kiss on the tender skin on the inside of his left wrist. Lance smiled and cupped Justin’s face with his palm, rubbing his thumb over Justin’s mouth. Justin grinned and turned his head, kissing Lance’s palm.
“We’d better get going. MTV’s waiting,” Lance said, reluctant to hurry.
Justin sighed and leaned forward, resting his forehead on Lance’s shoulder. Lance let him stay there for a minute, as he studied the array of bottles arranged on the shelf in the corner of the shower.
“Mmm,” he said lazily, tilting his head and kissing Justin’s temple softly. “It’s a good thing I keep plenty of lube in the shower.”
Justin turned to look, too. “Dude,” he said, reaching for the shampoo, “You are so prepared. You’re like a Boy Scout.”
“Not hardly,” Lance said dryly.
Justin laughed and worked lather through his hair. “No, I guess not.”
“Although I think we do way cooler shit than the Boy Scouts do,” Lance said as Justin handed him the shampoo. “They never get to do stuff like this.”
~~~~~
Justin and Joey are the last ones to leave the studio the Monday before their Thanksgiving break starts. They’re working on the first verse of a new song, one that Justin wrote about things that happened almost seven years ago. He actually just wrote it a few months ago, when he knew they were going to do this, and that he was going to be spending time with Lance again. He didn’t mean to, it just came out when he sat down at the piano one day. He hesitated about showing it to the rest of the guys, then he thought, fuck it. It’s a good song.
He’s had to clean the lyrics up a bit, although that doesn’t matter like it used to, back when they aimed for a specific demographic, the young and supposedly innocent one. None of them are really concerned these days about whether the word fuck appears in a song. Fucking cocksucker, though, even JC thought that one had to go, and Justin has to agree.
He doesn’t know if Lance has figured out what story the song is telling, or if Justin’s revamped lyrics are vague enough that only Justin knows what they’re actually about. The details are smudged, and all that’s really left is the feel of it. It’s an angry song, with an angry, discordant sound, and JC and Chris both love it, the two of them really getting into it when they sing.
Joey, though, Joey’s not quite there yet, and since the way they make music together has changed, the vocal arrangements using Joey’s voice more, needing it to blend with Justin’s voice on the higher parts, Joey has to get it. Justin needs Joey’s voice now, needs it to carry his own up into falsetto range, helping it soar like it used to, and that’s okay. Justin’s come to terms with his voice not being able to do what it used to do, and he doesn’t regret it so much anymore. Regrets are a waste of precious time, and a denial of what’s still possible.
Joey frowns at him doubtfully as Justin cues the song up again. Justin takes a deep breath. “What, Joey?” he says patiently.
“Why were you so mad when you wrote this, J?” Justin is surprised at the question. He doesn’t think Joey really wants to know. He shrugs.
“It’s just a song, Joey. You know, you kick things around, ideas, whatever. It doesn’t mean it’s real or anything.” He meets Joey’s eye and smiles brightly. Joey doesn’t look at all convinced.
“I just wondered, I mean, you know, if it was something, um personal.” Joey doesn’t usually have so much trouble putting a complete sentence together, and Justin wonders what’s on his mind. Joey kicks his feet against the rung of the stool he’s planted on, sounding out a counter-rhythm to the song.
Justin shrugs again. “Well, I guess every song you write is a little bit personal, right?” He looks around for the bottle of water he left sitting somewhere, trying to distract both of them from this conversation.
Justin’s song echoes around the studio, waiting for the two missing voices to make it complete. Joey keeps listening, his head cocked to the side, his eyes closed.
“Justin,” he finally says, opening his eyes, and the tone of his voice makes Justin uneasy, makes him pause as he reaches for the water he finds on the floor next to one of the stools. He really doesn’t want to have this conversation with Joey, of all people. He waits, trying to feign nonchalance, peeling the label off the bottle in his hand.
Joey surprises him again. “Do you sometimes wonder what things would be like, if Lance hadn’t told you about what happened? Back then, I mean. If you guys would have stayed together, or broken up at some point anyway? If it would have been less-”
And Justin doesn’t talk about this with Joey, not ever, so he quickly breaks in, saying, “We would have had to grow up sooner or later, Joe.” He’s not sure he believes that, but it’s what he says.
And Joey pins him with a stare, and Justin stops fiddling with the water bottle and stares back. This is Joey, and in spite of everything, Joey is his friend. “Do you want to get back together with Lance, Justin?”
And whoa, that’s direct. And even if it’s what he wants, what he wishes for, he hasn’t said it out loud yet, not even to his mom, who knows anyway. And Joey’s his friend, and that means he’ll let Justin off the hook on this one if Justin tries hard enough. He has to, it’s what old friends do. He shakes his head and attempts a laugh to see what it sounds like. Not too bad, so he does it again.
“Joey, what kind of a question is that? Things happened the way they happened, none of us can change what went down, and it’s fine, Lance and I are fine, and you don’t have to worry, if that’s what’s going on here.” Justin realizes he has no idea what Joey would think about the possibility of-
Justin cuts that line of thought off. Not only does he not say it out loud, he refuses to let himself think about it except in the most nebulous of terms.
They stare at each other until Joey looks away. Justin tries not to let his relief show as he says lightly, “You never know what the future holds, Joey. I’m not counting on anything, and I’m not ruling anything out.” And that’s as much of an non-answer as Joey will let him get away with, probably, so when Joey’s cell phone rings, Justin closes his eyes and sends up a silent prayer of thanks.
It’s JC and Justin can tell he’s pissed just from the way Joey’s phone is humming like an angry wasp, the vibrations of JC’s voice strident and harsh and fitting perfectly into the song that’s still reverberating around the studio on a playback loop.
Joey immediately starts to make soothing sounds into the phone while he rolls his eyes at Justin. From what Justin can gather, JC’s plane to Chicago has been delayed because O’Hare is snowed in. It’s only November, and the snow storm was more severe than predicted, and JC is pissed. There’s nothing he hates more than sitting around an airport with nothing to do, and Justin shares a sympathetic grimace with Joey. They know the feeling.
Justin stops playback on the song and starts shutting things down on the soundboard. They’re not going to get anything else accomplished here today, and they might as well shelve it for the holidays. By the time Joey’s managed to calm JC down and convince him that he’s not going to die of boredom, and that while Joey loves JC, he’s not about to drive all the way out to the airport to keep him company while he waits, Justin’s ready to go. He motions to Joey to give him his phone, and Joey hands it over.
“Hey, C. Tough luck on the weather. I know, I know. C. C, shut up a minute. Why don’t you call Chris? I know for a fact his lazy ass isn’t doing anything this afternoon. Right, right. Okay, man, have a good holiday. Kiss your mom and dad for me, and tell Tyler I said to fuck off. No, you ass, not Heather, Tyler! Tell him I owe him one from last time.” He raises his eyebrows inquiringly at Joey, and Joey shakes his head emphatically, so Justin just closes the phone and gives it back to him.
Joey looks around and it seems to dawn on him that they’re finished, with both the recording and the heart-to-heart conversation, and he gives Justin a look, like he knows he’s been hustled, but he’ll let it go this time. Justin gives him a wide grin, the one that Joey’s almost never been able to resist, and they head out into the hot Florida sunshine with Joey’s arm draped across Justin’s shoulder, warm and heavy.
~~~~~
The cameras were waiting for them in the lobby of the lodge, and Joey was waiting in the hallway, so Justin and Lance dressed quickly, once they managed to drag themselves away from the shower. They hadn’t really taken that long, and the noise of the shower should have drowned out the noises Lance had made while they were in there. Justin loved those noises, there was something about how helpless Lance was to stop them that was very hot.
So Justin thought Joey should lighten up and stop glowering at them. They were all working hard this weekend, and he thought they deserved a break away from the cameras every once in a while. He frowned back at Joey in the elevator, crossing his arms over his chest and working his best scowl. Lance looked at both their faces and smacked Joey’s arm. Joey’s face softened as he looked at Lance, and when the elevator doors opened, they were all smiling as they walked into a forest of cameras and hot lights.
Justin had no idea where Chris and JC were, and Joey should be off frowning at them, really. There were girls in the lobby, a carefully chosen group scattered around the various chairs and couches, lounging in front of the fire, self-consciously trying to pretend the MTV cameras weren’t there. Justin nudged Lance and they moved toward the piano that waited over by the windows. Lance sat down, and looked up at Justin, his eyes sparkling with laughter. He patted the piano bench invitingly, and Justin grinned. “Shove over,” he said, and he sat down next to Lance.
Lance immediately launched into Heart and Soul, and Justin laughed and joined in. Lance’s cheeks were sunburned, and he looked both adorable and well-fucked, if you knew what you were looking for, which Justin did, and as he smiled at one of the girls that had gathered around the piano, he practically radiated happiness. Justin felt something in his chest tighten, and then as they ended the song, he glanced across the room at Joey. He was sitting by the fireplace, studiously ignoring them, reading a newspaper as if he were the only person in the room.
Justin didn’t get what Joey’s problem was. He was pretty sure Joey didn’t want Lance for himself, not in a romantic or sexual way, but sometimes Joey acted like he was competing with Justin for something. As if he had to fight Justin for Lance’s favor, or his attention. Which was ridiculous, because Joey spent as much time with Lance as Justin did, if not more, if Justin really thought about it.
He and Lance a noodled around some more, playing a few more songs, then Lance said, “Okay, Justin, your turn to wow ‘em,” nodding at the girls surrounding them. He winced as he got to his feet, moving a little stiffly. He laughed. “I think I may have overdone it on the slopes today.” Or maybe in the shower, Justin thought, and he grinned up at Lance, whose cheeks became even more flushed than they already were.
The girl stretched out on top of the piano waved some kind of flower at Justin, like she was conducting an orchestra, and he stopped trying to embarrass Lance and started playing something, watching out of the corner of his eye as Lance made his way over to Joey.
Joey looked up from his newspaper and smiled, warm and welcoming, like there was nothing that could make him happier than to see Lance standing there. Lance smiled back down at him, and Justin told himself not to be stupid. It was nothing like the kind of smiles Lance saved for Justin. It was the smile you gave your best friend, and that was all it was.
~~~~~
snow: a: precipitation in the form of small white ice crystals formed directly from the water vapor of the air at a temperature of less than 32°F (0°C) b: to deceive, persuade, or charm glibly
