JC knows, the minute Lance sings the first note. Chris knows too, JC can tell by the way his eyes sharpen with interest. Joey just looks relieved, and the expression on Justin's face is smug, there's no other word for it. He shoots JC an "I told you so" grin and JC grins right back.

Lance is perfect. He fits into their harmony flawlessly, supporting their voices, adding a resonance that was missing with everyone else they tried. JC feels a shiver of excitement as he looks at the smiling faces around the room.

JC can tell Lynn is already busy calculating their next step, and Lance's mom seems both uneasy and proud. Lou just nods and says, "Okay, okay. Let's make this happen."

They need to get Lance up to speed right away, so Mrs. Bass goes back to Mississippi to pull him out of school and collect enough of his stuff so he can stay in Florida awhile. A long while, if JC has anything to say about it. Lance isn't at the same level the others are, but he works his ass off, and no one complains. JC knows he'll be fine eventually.

In the house Lou rents for them, Lance and Chris share a bedroom, while JC sleeps in what he's sure was originally a closet. He lays in bed at night, thoughts resolutely turned away from the bedroom upstairs. He's not sure Chris appreciates Lance the way he should, although JC thinks maybe he's coming around the day he finds all his Hard Rock Cafe menus pinned to the wall upside-down and Lance and Chris giggling together over the controls of their favorite video game.

He gets his revenge in the pool that afternoon, managing to dunk them both before they gang up on him and hold him underwater until Joey comes to rescue him. Lance loses interest pretty quickly after that, hanging off the side of the pool by his elbows, chin resting on his folded arms as he listens to Joey's stories about working at Universal. JC watches Lance slowly kick his feet back and forth, eyes fixed on Joey's face. His chest feels tight with something he doesn't want to name, so he flops down on the deck chair and exposes his throat to the sun, closing his eyes against the rapt expression on Lance's face.

*

They're finished with the Showcase, and JC knows Lou is shopping them around. They keep practicing in the warehouse, the one that's a thousand degrees on a cool day, and Lance is getting better, they all are. It's hard work, and JC is bone-tired, but anticipation simmers beneath the surface of his skin all the time. He's restless with it, and there are times he can't sleep, something his mother would have a hard time believing.

JC likes Lance as a blond. It makes his eyes stand out, luminous in his pale face, surrounded by even paler hair. They go shopping for the trip to New York, and Lance laughs at JC's puffy silver vest, but he thinks his sunglasses are cool. The night before they're supposed to leave, JC is too excited to sleep. He slips out the back door and finds Lance dangling his feet in the pool, gaze focused on the stars glowing in the clear night sky. JC sits next to him, the concrete of the pool deck rough under his thighs. The air is cool, but the cement still retains the warmth of the late afternoon sun.

They sit in companionable silence, watching their feet move in unison, underwater choreography that disturbs the surface of the pool, sending ripples out in concentric circles that glimmer in the moonlight. They lean against each other, and JC can feel the heat where their shoulders press together. Their knees bump and JC hooks his foot around Lance's ankle. Lance looks at him questioningly.

"JC?"

"Um. Are you, I mean, um, can I...." He shuts up as Lance smiles, a soft smile of invitation, and when JC still hesitates, Lance moves to close the distance between them. Lance's lips are chapped. He chews on them when he's concentrating on new dance steps, and they move over JC's mouth briefly but with intent.

He's only known Lance for about a month, but he knows.

*

New York is a bust, but they keep working hard. Lou holds the Backstreet Boys up as inspiration. "It'll happen," he says. "Just keep working. It doesn't come overnight."

Kissing Lance becomes something JC needs to get him through the long hours, the hard work, and the constant, jittery buzz of expectation. JC has experienced both success and failure in his life, and success is better. He won't do failure again. Failure sucks.

He doesn't know if the other guys have any clue about the two of them. Justin never worried about the on-set romances and dalliances on MMC, so JC guesses he won't care if JC and Lance are fooling around now. Chris will probably find it amusing. It's Joey he's not sure about. There's something in Joey's eyes when he looks at Lance that JC doesn't like. He carefully doesn't think about the way Lance looks back.

He and Lance don't have a lot of opportunities to be alone together, but when they do, they take full advantage of them.

Lynn takes Justin home to Tennessee for the weekend to visit his grandparents, and Chris is working a late shift at Outback. Joey's at his parents house for the evening. Phyllis invites Lance and JC, too, but JC would rather spend the evening rubbing up against Lance while a mid-December thunderstorm rages outside. It's better than hanging around listening to Steve scoff at his brother's dreams, while his dad interrupts him and Phyllis smacks the back of his head. Sometimes Joey's family is just a little too exuberant for JC.

He gets the feeling Lance wants to go to the Fatones, but JC whispers promises in his ear, and what sixteen-year old boy is going to turn down a blow-job in favor of a home-cooked meal?

They're in the living room, and the rain beats against the sliding glass doors that lead to the patio. The lights are off and Lance's skin glows in the intermittent flashes of lightning. The sounds he makes as JC curls his tongue around the head of his cock are almost lost in the thunder that crashes outside. JC hollows his cheeks and Lance's hip roll in a way they never do when he's dancing. JC likes that he's the only one who gets to see Lance move like this, so loose and fluid and free. He holds the knowledge close, a secret he's unwilling to share with anyone. Lance is sprawled back against the cushions, and he shifts fitfully until his ass hangs over the edge of the couch. He spreads his legs in a silent plea, and JC slides a spit-slick finger inside where it's hot and tight. Lance cries out as the wind howls through the palm trees around the pool. JC thinks he hears a chaise lounge blow across the pool deck, tumbling over the concrete as he swallows.

*

Lance goes home for the Christmas holidays, and JC misses him fiercely. He enjoys the break from the constant rehearsing, but he's happy as hell when things resume in January. Lance seems a little subdued when he comes back from Mississippi, and JC's afraid he's having second thoughts.

"Nope, not me. My mom kinda is. Well, she's worried about school and stuff." Lance's accent is more pronounced than it was when he left. JC thinks it's hot. Diane's visits become more frequent as it becomes apparent that not much is happening yet.

She shows up for Lance's seventeenth birthday, and takes them all out to dinner. There's a bit of tension between Diane and Lynn, but Chris is more hyper than usual, and Justin is nearly as bad, and Lynn and Diane eventually join forces to keep them all from being banned from Friday's for life. JC is still giggling as they pile out of the cars in the driveway, until he sees Lance and Diane arguing quietly in the front seat of Diane's rental car.

His stomach drops. There's no way she's taking him home. JC's trying to think of how to stop her when Lance climbs out of the car, his shoulders rigid with the effort not to slam the door. JC knows what Lance looks like when he's controlling his temper. Diane gets out of the car after him, and JC sees the family resemblance in the set of her shoulders. Lance starts towards the house, but Diane reaches out a hand and touches his arm. Lance turns towards her and JC sees the battle of wills play out in their body language. Diane capitulates first, JC can tell by the way her shoulders relax. Lance stares at her a second longer, then he smiles sweetly and she laughs. Diane plants a kiss on her son's forehead and JC lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Lance isn't going anywhere.

They all pile into the kitchen, where there's cake and ice cream and pretty soon they're all riding a sugar high of monumental proportions.

"Is it always like this?" Diane asks Lynn with amazed sympathy as Joey gets Lance in a headlock to keep him from taking the last piece of cake, and Chris races Justin to the Nintendo.

"Sometimes it's even worse," Lynn laughs, and Diane shakes her head. JC is watching this exchange because he's not watching Lance giggle happily as Joey smears cake all over his face. Joey's got his arm locked around Lance's waist, holding him against his chest while he decorates Lance's eyebrows with chocolate icing. Lance is wiggling, trying to get away, although grinding his ass back against Joey's crotch doesn't seem like the best way to encourage Joey to let him go. Joey's eyes darken with speculation, and JC turns around and walks away, goes to sit on the couch next to Justin and Chris while they try to annihilate each other on the screen.

After everyone goes to bed, and Diane has gone back to Lynn's house for the night, Lance slips into JC's room. JC shoves the covers back and waits. When Lance is against him, naked skin warm and smooth, JC finally relaxes. "You're not leaving, right?" JC whispers against Lance's collarbone. He's not just talking about Florida.

"Nope. I'm stayin' right here. You're stuck with me. I'm never leavin' y'all." Lance moves under him like a dream, and JC wishes it were true.

*

Executives from BMG are coming to see them, and rehearsals are more intense than ever. Their new manager, Johnny Wright, seems hopeful enough about their chances. JC thinks the performance goes well, but there's a lot of whispering and significant looks being traded back and forth between Johnny and this Jan Boltz guy. They head back to the house to wait.

Johnny arrives in the kitchen and sits down at the table. It's not a very big table, and JC and Joey are left standing, leaning up against the counter on either side of the sink. They wait while Johnny decides how to say what he's come to say.

"They like you. They like you a lot. But." JC knew there'd be a but. There almost always is.

"Two things. They don't like the name, however," he waves his hand dismissively, "I told them that was bullshit. It's just because they can't say it right. And," he pauses, then looks directly at Lance. JC feels a jolt of adrenalin shoot through him. "They think you're not as good as the other guys. They want to either replace you or sign the group without you."

No. They're not doing this without Lance. JC looks around the room and sees the same answer on the other guys' faces. No fucking way. Lance looks up from his hands, and JC is ready with an encouraging smile, but Lance looks at Joey instead, embarrassment mixed with determination in his eyes. Joey nods at him, equally determined, and JC is suddenly afraid. One way or another, he's going to lose Lance.

They work like maniacs for two weeks. They all try hard not to make Lance feel like some kind of freakish loser. There's about a minute and a half when Lance seems surprised by their unwavering loyalty, but then he gets to work.

JC leans against the wall in the warehouse, watching Lance and Justin. Justin's body moves so naturally, and JC thinks maybe Lance is frustrated by that, maybe it makes his movements more stiff. But Justin already loves Lance, and apparently has unsuspected reserves of patience. Chris keeps messing up, and JC doesn't know if it's a show of solidarity with Lance or just plain exhaustion. JC is running on pure adrenaline at this point, sharp with everyone. Only Joey is his usual self, laughing to defuse the tension whenever JC is on the verge of snapping something at Lance that he won't be able to take back. This is just so important.

Lance is determined and awkward at the same time, but JC knows that he knows how to move his hips. The private dance JC thinks of as just for him begins to show itself as Justin continues to work with him. When Lance executes a particularly fluid hip roll, JC blushes, heat creeping up his face. Lance throws him a knowing grin. It's one of the few light moments JC allows them.

It's late and JC is too tired to do more than brush his teeth before falling into bed. He waits for Lance, fighting sleep, but there's a voice in his head telling him to give it up, whispering that from the way Lance and Joey had their heads together this afternoon, Joey's hand rubbing slow circles over Lance's visibly twitching calf muscle, JC shouldn't hold his breath. JC hears voices through his open window, out by the pool, talking quietly in the dark. He doesn't get up to see who it is. He already knows.

By the time the German record execs come back, they're all pretty confident. It goes well and things start happening at a dizzying speed. Passports, visas, contracts, and then they're packing for Germany. JC's twentieth birthday almost gets lost in the blur of frantic activity. But Lance finds him and kisses him sadly and sweetly. JC knows it's a good-bye kiss, even though they'll still be living in each other's pockets. I love you, he says in his head. Don't leave. But he doesn't say the words out loud. He kisses Lance back and lets him go.

*****

Lance doesn't hate Germany. It doesn't suck. In fact, it's pretty exciting. They're big stars over here, and it's weird and thrilling at the same time. He's glad his mom is here to see it, so she can call home and tell his dad and Stacy all about it. He's not homesick like the other guys sometimes are. Well, except for Justin. It would be hard for Justin to be homesick, what with Lynn being involved in their every waking moment.

Lance would rather be sharing a room with Joey instead of his mom, but otherwise, it's good to have her here. He doesn't understand why she and Lynn don't share a room. Well, okay, the look she gives him when he mentions it isn't something he's going to tell Justin about, and maybe he does understand it, but still.

Joey smiles at him over breakfast. His video camera is nowhere to be seen for a change, although Chris continues to act like he's being filmed anyway. This morning, he's annoying Justin by sticking a spoon on his nose and then elbowing Justin to make him look. Justin elbows him back without looking up from his cereal, and every time, the spoon falls off Chris's nose, bouncing off his plate with a clatter and scattering bits of scrambled eggs everywhere. Lance winces when he sees the expression on his mother's face. She doesn't say anything, but this isn't the sort of behavior that's encouraged at the Bass family breakfast table, and Lance knows she's biting her tongue in about ten different places.

He grins and tries to distract Chris by kicking him under the table and then innocently looking the other way when Chris glares at him. By the time breakfast is over, Chris has attempted to pour a bowl of muesli over Lance's head, but at least the silverware and eggs have stopped flying, and his mother smiles at him gratefully. Lance's mom is a teacher and he knows she's used to controlling a room full of kids without breaking a sweat, but he suspects that Chris alone is the equivalent of a whole gaggle of sixth-graders.

As they leave the dining room, heading for the bus and another radio interview, Joey slaps his forehead. The noise cracks loudly in the small hotel lobby and they all turn to look at him.

"My camera. It's upstairs. I have time to go get it, right?" Joey looks guilelessly at Lance. "Do you still have that extra battery you said I could have?"

"It's in my blue bag," Lance looks back, his eyebrows raised, waiting.

"Um, I might need it. Today. Can you get it for me?" Joey is the world's worst actor sometimes.

Lance grins. "Sure, Joey. Why don't I come upstairs with you and get it right now?" He hears Justin snort. JC frowns.

They bypass the tiny elevator and take the stairs. Joey takes them two at a time and turns around on the landing to wait impatiently for Lance. He grabs a fistful of Lance's t-shirt and hauls him up the last few steps.

"Watch the shirt, asshole." Joey gives the shirt another tug and Lance ends up plastered to Joey's chest, Joey's tongue down his throat. He kisses back eagerly, wiggling to get every bit of body contact he can. A stairwell door bangs open a couple of flights above them and Lance pulls away.

"C'mon, we gotta go. Maybe after supper tonight we can go for a walk or something," he breathes.

Joey flicks him on the forehead. "No, we can't go for a walk, bonehead. Fritz'd kick our asses. We'll have to figure something else out."

Lance sure hopes so. He and Joey haven't had much chance to be alone lately, and it's killing him. He turns to run up the next flight of stairs, throwing, "Race ya!" over his shoulder.

He manages to get a decent head start, but Joey catches up with him at the door to his room and gooses him. Laughing, Lance bats at his hand and says, "Later, Joey, later."

When they climb onto the bus, laughing, Justin winks at Lance, but JC turns his face away to look out the window. Lance feels bad about that, but he's seventeen years old for heaven's sake, and that's kind of young for a lifetime commitment or whatever it was JC wanted. Lance just wishes he'd get over it.

*

They get their first gold record the same day Justin turns sixteen. Lance's mom and Lynn take them to McDonald's to celebrate. Lance closes his eyes and lets the familiar taste take him home. Joey snickers next to him and Lance opens his eyes and grins as they chew blissfully at each other. It's nice to be eating in a place where there are no waitresses for Joey to flirt with. Although really, if Joey is breathing, he's flirting. It's automatic. It doesn't matter who he flirts with, though, he always ends up with Lance at the end of the day.

"Joey, maybe you shouldn't-" Chris claps his hand over JC's mouth. JC struggles for a minute, then just stands still in Chris's grasp. Sometimes that works, Lance knows.

Joey slaps Justin's ass again. "Dammit, Joey!" Justin wiggles around on Joey's lap, trying to get free. Joey's eyes widen. Lance frowns. He's not at all sure he likes the look on Joey's face.

"I think that was sixteen, Joe," he says loudly, tugging on Joey's shoulder to get his attention. Joey stops smacking Justin and looks up at Lance. Lance raises his eyebrow challengingly at Joey.

"I think he needs one to grow on," Joey says, and he slaps Justin's ass one more time. "There, Happy Birthday, kid," and he lets Justin up.

Justin struggles to his feet, getting a hand behind him to rub his butt. "That hurt, Joey." He frowns. "How come nobody spanked you on your birthday?" Then he gets a sly grin on his face. "Wait, did Lance-"

He breaks off when Chris screeches, "For the love of God, Justin! I don't need to hear about Fatone's kinky sex life!"

"Why the hell not? At least I have one," Joey says calmly, with just a touch of pink in his cheeks.

Lance feels an answering blush on his own face, and he changes the subject. "A gold record, you guys. Can you believe it?" He smiles so big his face hurts.

Chris immediately starts bouncing from bed to bed, until JC and Justin grab him and sit on him. They spend the rest of the evening in Justin and Lynn's room, sharing the bottles of dark German beer that Lynn leaves them to celebrate with, along with an admonition to "remember, tomorrow isn't a day off." Joey and Lance curl up on Lynn's bed, Joey's hand cupped around Lance's neck, thumb idly caressing the soft hair there. Lance shivers.

Justin sprawls out on his stomach, his head in JC's lap, while they chatter excitedly about the future that stretches out in front of them, full of endless possibilities.

The long day takes its toll. Lance can't keep his eyes open to save his life. He's only half-listening to the conversation, and he snuggles further into Joe's warmth, dozing until Lynn comes to chase them all to bed.

*

When Lance turns eighteen, his mom decides she doesn't need to be there anymore. Lynn continues to travel with them, so there are still mom-vibes floating around for anyone who may need them. Lance feels very grown up, but he's careful not to make Justin feel like a baby because his mom is still there, even though he's a total brat sometimes. Lance doesn't understand why Joey seems to think it's so amusing.

Chris and JC have no objections to sharing a room all the time, so Lance and Joey can finally stop trying to create opportunities to grab five minutes alone. About a week after his mom leaves, Lance is hit with a blast of homesickness that's as unwelcome as it is unexpected.

He shudders under Joey, helpless tears on his cheeks. "Shhh, baby, it's okay," Joey croons, big, warm hands moving over him, soothing him, cupping his face, thumbs brushing away the wetness there. Joey's thrusts are slow and deep and Lance is absurdly grateful for each one. He comes with Joey's hand curled around his dick, and Joey's mouth nuzzling his neck, murmuring words of comfort in his ear.

*

For the life of him, Lance can't figure out why he and AJ have to switch teams for the basketball game with Backstreet. It's not as if either one of them is going to provide some kind of edge to whatever team they're on. They both suck like Hoovers.

The game is fun, but it seems to Lance that every time he looks down at the other bench, all he can see is Justin and Joey deep in conversation, Joey's head bent to hear Justin. Lance can hear Justin's loud laugh over the noise of the crowd. Once, he looks down and sees Joey with Justin in a headlock, Justin struggling to get away, batting ineffectually at Joey's hands, his face red with laughter.

It's nothing, Lance tells himself. Justin's just a kid and Joey knows it. Lance isn't a kid anymore, he's old enough for Joey, hell, he was old enough for JC. Justin isn't.

Lance thinks JC is looking at him with less regret these days, and he's glad. He wants JC to get over stuff. Joey's just so much fun, and he doesn't need things from Lance the way JC did. Just a good time, some laughs together. A good friend to share the grinding exhaustion of their lives with. Joey is always there when the sense of not being good enough threatens to overwhelm him. He'll goof around and poke at Lance until he's laughing so hard he thinks he might bust something and he can't remember why he's so tired. The fact that Joey's thighs are strong and powerful, and his brown eyes smile so happily at Lance, has nothing to do with it. Joey smells like the kind of aftershave you can buy at Wal*Mart, which makes Lance think of home, until sometimes Lance gets things mixed up in his head and somehow Joey becomes his idea of home. He knows how dangerous that is, but he can't seem to help himself.

Once the game is over, and they're partying with the Boys to show what good friends they all are, Lance drags Joey down a dark corridor at the back of the club. They wind up in an alcove that Lance thinks may lead to the kitchen. He pushes Joey up against the wall and kisses him. He's half afraid Joey will push him away, being in such a public place and all, but sometimes Joey likes sex too much to be circumspect. Lance drops to his knees before he can think too much, flicking open the button on Joey's fly and yanking the zipper down in one fluid motion. He licks up the underside of Joey's dick once, then swallows him down quickly, not giving him any time to resist.

"Shit!" Joey's head bangs back against the wall and Lance hums appreciatively around Joey's cock. Joey thrusts into his mouth, and Lance lets him. He hollows his cheeks and sucks, savoring the weight of Joey's dick on his tongue. He can hear bursts of laughter coming from the club, and he hopes everyone is too busy having fun to come wandering down any back hallways. The music is muffled, but Lance can feel the thumping bass in his knees as he holds onto Joey's hips and works his mouth up and down, loving Joey the best he can.

He bets Joey isn't thinking about Justin now.

*

Lance can't believe they're on their way home. He's a little bit scared, maybe. Things'll be different once they're back in the States, he knows. They'll have to start over again, and that's fine. They did it once, they can do it again, no problem.

On the plane back to Orlando, Lance has trouble sleeping. The plane's not full, and they have plenty of room to goof around. Chris is all over the place, stealing food from Justin's tray, sticking M&Ms in JC's ears while he sleeps. Lance and Joey's seats are together, but Joey's been sitting with Justin most of the way across the Atlantic, listening to Justin’s CDs.

Lance is so used to Joey's video camera being focused on him that it takes him a while to miss it. When he does, he realizes that it's been pointing at Justin a lot more than it used to be. Right now, the two of them are giggling like idiots while Joey aims it at Chris marching up and down the aisle wearing an airsickness bag on his head.

Lance thinks about why he’s scared. Joey scares him, maybe. He knows Kelly's waiting at home, and if not Kelly, there are other girls. Being with Lance in Germany didn't keep Joey from looking at the girls there. And there were a lot of girls to look at.

Mostly, Lance is afraid of Justin.

*

They've been home for a few weeks now, kind of at loose ends, not sure what to do with themselves when they're not working. Soon, the relentless promo will start up again, but until then, Lance is going to Mississippi to let his mother drag him into the craziness of Stacy's wedding preparations. He wishes he wasn’t leaving Joey behind.

The guys all come for the wedding and they bring a copy of their European CD. He’s missed them a lot. He worries a little because it feels weird without them around, like he's only part of a person on his own. He worries, too, when that thought brings him more comfort than it probably should.

"Hey, Pez! Whatcha doin'?" Chris smacks a drunken kiss on his cheek and throws an arm around Lance's neck.

"Quit it, you freak." But he puts his arm around Chris's waist and pulls him close.

Stacy's reception is in full swing. Lance has already danced with both Stacy and his mom. Right now, Justin is pretending to be a grown up, dancing with Diane like he's some kind of ballroom dancing prodigy. No reason why he shouldn't be, Lance figures. Justin's good at practically everything.

Joey waltzes Stacy around the dance floor, making her laugh as he helps her keep her bridal train out from under his big feet.

"J's growing up," Chris whispers in Lance's ear. Lance swats irritably at him.

"You're spitting in my ear, you ass." He doesn't want to hear it.

Chris kisses his cheek again. "Fucking Timberlake," he slurs drunkenly. Lance wonders what Chris sees to make him say that.

Later, Joey kisses him behind the building, before he heads to the hotel. Lance wants him to stay at the house, but Joey says no. "I don't think so. Your mom has enough to deal with. I'm just gonna go back to the hotel with the guys." Joey looks sad and guilty at the same time. "I just-" He stops and stares at the ground.

Lance shakes his head. "I know." He kisses Joey back and lets him go.

*****

Joey loves his life.

"Goddamn, you're good at this." He heaves himself off Justin and falls back on the bed, trying to catch his breath. He forgets sometimes that Justin is only seventeen.

Justin laughs. "So are you, man." He rubs his fingers through the sticky mess on his stomach and then sneakily wipes his hand on Joey's chest. He moves swiftly out of reach of the swat Joey aims at his ass and rolls to his feet, still laughing. Justin's never been intimidated by Joey, not even when he was a precocious fourteen year-old mugging for Joey's camera. He's caught up to Joey in height, and Joey doesn't fool himself that there's any other way he ever had an advantage over Justin.

Joey laughs back at him, enjoying the afterglow of what he thinks of as their celebratory fuck. The Disney concert seems to have worked wonders and their CD is climbing the charts with a bullet. Joey thinks they may finally be on the verge of surpassing the success they had in Europe. On hearing the news that they've gone platinum, Joey dragged Justin to bed and fucked him while J held onto the headboard, knuckles white, knees up around his ears. Joey loves Justin like this, squirming under him, his breathy voice pleading, "C'mon, Joey, do it."

Joey gets up. "I need a shower. You coming?"

Justin nods. "Sure."

Standing under the hot spray, Joey watches Justin tip his head back, eyes closed, letting the sudsy water from his hair run down his face. He's so beautiful, Joey thinks, and he knows he's lucky, he thanks his lucky stars that he's allowed to fuck him whenever he wants. Justin's hair is still a bit crunchy from the gel he uses to tame the curls he's locked in mortal combat with. Joey helps him with the conditioner, rubbing slow circles over Justin's scalp, their hands sliding together until Joey's hard again just from that. He may not be seventeen anymore, but he's not exactly old, and his recovery time is pretty good. Justin wiggles his ass against Joey's hard-on, then reaches back, grabs Joey's hand, and wraps it around his dick. He wiggles encouragingly again, and Joey says, "Greedy, aren't we?" while he jerks Justin off. His own cock slips between Justin's thighs, and he thrusts until he comes, panting, "God, J," in Justin's ear.

Joey loves success.

*

"Oh my God, Joey. Did you see her? She's so, you know, um, just so-" Justin looks like he's channeling JC for a minute there, the way he's flinging his arms around in a mostly non-verbal attempt to convey to Joey how unbelievably hot Janet Jackson is. He's been going on about it for at least the past half hour, and since Joey has eyes and knows that Janet is totally hot, he nods in agreement.

"Speaking of hot, J- c'mere. I'll show you hot." He grabs at Justin's arm, catching it and pulling him closer. They're in the rehearsal room, waiting for the other guys to show up. They may not be making money by opening for Janet, but it's important exposure and they need to do it right.

"Cut it out, Joey. Everybody'll be in here in a minute." Justin plants a hand in the middle of Joey's chest and pushes him away.

He doesn't know who Justin's so worried about. The other guys don't care. Although Joey wonders about Lance sometimes. He thinks maybe Lance was a little in love with him before, in Germany. But Joey's convinced he and Lance work better as best friends. On a good day, he's able to persuade himself that Lance agrees with him. JC frowns at him sometimes, but JC's always been fiercely protective of Lance, even when Lance doesn't need the help. JC needs to let go, in Joeys' opinion. Lance is putting a lot of effort into dating girls right now, and they need to just let him do that.

Joey moves away from Justin anyway. He hears Chris's voice in the hallway, raised in laughter. He doesn't always like the way Chris looks at him and Justin, either, like he thinks Joey is some kind of big perv, but like he's jealous, too. Joey's kind of confused, actually, by the possessive hunger in Chris's eyes when he thinks Justin isn't paying attention. Justin may not be paying attention, but Joey is.

He's across the room rummaging through the cooler, counting the water bottles, when Chris and JC come through the door, followed by Lance and Darren. He doesn't miss the grateful look Justin gives him as they all pile in the room, JC clutching his sides while he laughs like a hyena at whatever it is Chris is saying. He doesn't miss Chris's eyes sliding quickly over the both of them before he pokes JC in the ribs, either, while he side-steps easily out of the way when JC tries to poke him back.

*

Joey can't seem to get away from Britney. All of a sudden, it's like she's freakin' everywhere. He likes her okay, but Justin's been kind of sniffing around her like a dog in heat and Joey's not at all sure he likes that. It makes Justin distracted and not quite as eager to tumble into bed on a moment's notice, and Joey knows he doesn't like that.

Justin denies that he and Britney are dating when they're asked about it, because they're all supposed to appear simultaneously available and sexually non-threatening. It's hard for Joey to imagine a virginal Justin. The boy exudes sex from every pore. Joey gets it, but he wonders about their fans. Can they really look at Justin and think virginal? If that's what Johnny's trying to sell, good luck to him.

Joey's feelings about Britney, however, are apparently nothing compared to Chris's. Even Justin seems to notice, confusion in his eyes when Chris's teasing crosses the line from playful to mean.

"Shut up, asshole," he snarls when Britney laughs uncertainly at a particularly mean-spirited jibe at her Louisiana accent.

Chris stares at him defiantly for a moment, then laughs and looks away. "Sorry, Brit-Brit," he says, sounding almost like he means it. Justin stares back, unsmiling, until Britney tugs at his arm. He finally looks down at her and lets out a reluctant huff of laughter. They all relax and Chris is extra nice to Britney for the rest of the afternoon.

It doesn't stop Justin from eyeing Chris speculatively, though. Joey catches him several times, just watching Chris across the area backstage, while Chris climbs on JC's back and wages an epic Silly String battle with Lance.

For the most part, though, the excitement of headlining a tour for the first time prevails, and they all get caught up in it. Britney really is the perfect opening act for them, and besides, things are so crazybusy there's not much time for anything else. If there's less opportunity for Joey and Justin to fuck, well, things will calm down when they get a break from the tour.

*

Joey doesn't think he's ever seen JC this mad. An enraged JC is a scary thing to see, and Joey doesn't like it. He doesn't like any of this. They're all completely pissed that they aren't postponing the Tampa concert until Lance is better. Fucking Lou.

"JC-" he starts, but JC jerks away from Joey's hand on his shoulder.

"Shut up, Joe. I don't want to hear it." JC turns and heaves his bottle of water at the wall of the Quiet Room with an angry growl. Justin's hunched over on the couch, looking miserable, and Chris paces angrily in front of him. Justin flinches at the dull crack of the plastic bottle hitting the wall. Joey and Chris exchange glances, then Chris goes to JC, pulling him by the elbow over to the table of food catering has set out for them, talking softly in his ear. JC shakes his head, but allows Chris to pull him into a hug after a moment, visibly slumping in his arms.

Joey turns his attention to Justin. He sits down next to him, and says, "C'mere, baby." He knows Justin likes Lou and doesn't understand why he's doing this. Justin thought they meant more to Lou than just business, they all did. Working them until one of them collapses from exhaustion doesn't seem like good business to Joey.

Justin leans into his shoulder and Joey kisses the top of his head. He doesn't have much to offer in the way of words, so he comforts Justin the best way he knows how, with touch. He wraps him up tight in his arms and that's how the four of them spend the last fifteen minutes before they go on stage.

It helps, because they get through the show without any problems, although without their usual joy, and on the bus back to Orlando, JC is less overtly angry. He's coldly determined, though, when he says, "We're never doing that again."

No one disagrees.

That night, Justin comes to Joey and Joey fucks him slowly, carefully, until Justin is shaking beneath him, saying, "Joey, oh god, please, Joey" in a broken voice that makes Joey hate Lou more than he thought possible.

Then they have six glorious weeks off, and Joey sleeps the entire first one away, letting his mother cook for him whenever he's awake. Lance spends time in Mississippi, no doubt letting his mother do pretty much the same thing. He's bounced back quickly, and doesn't seem to worry much about the scary things the doctors said about his heart.

The break does them all good.

Joey doesn't see as much of Justin as he'd like to. Justin is around, but he's been seeing Britney a lot. Joey uses the time to reconnect with Kelly, who Joey knows is probably some kind of saint for putting up with his ass.

Joey's kind of surprised when he finds out how much time Justin has been spending with Chris. They're best friends, he knows, and he and Justin aren't really doing much more than sport-fucking, but it still kind of hurts that he's not often Justin's first choice for company.

They head back out on tour, the pace as relentless as it's always been. Justin still comes to him when the pressure threatens to overwhelm him, letting Joey ground him with his touch, keeping him safe for a night, sending him back out there with renewed strength. Joey's happy to do that for Justin, and in return, he gets to touch warm, golden skin, revel in the body that's still changing, but always beautiful, and he's the one who watches as Justin falls asleep with an expression of peace on his face, his body relaxed at night the way it never is during the day.

During the day, it's Chris Justin turns to, and they feed off each other's energy, sometimes until Lance glares at them with an expression that clearly says he'd happily toss their asses off the bus if he thought he could get away with it. JC looks like he'd be right at his side, helping with the heavy lifting if Lance asked him to. Joey knows Justin and Chris are best friends, and he doesn't begrudge Chris Justin's time and attention, or he wouldn't, if it wasn't for the occasional flash of possessive hunger in Chris's eyes when he watches Justin.

Mostly, though, it's the most fun Joey's ever had, and he can't believe it's his life.

And then it suddenly becomes clear to them all that their value as a commodity is indeed what Lou finds most attractive about them, and Joey is stunned at how stupid that makes him feel.

Justin just shrugs, like he's not surprised. Ever since Lance got sick, Justin has been different around Lou. He's been turning more and more to Johnny, or his mother, for management stuff. Justin doesn't give his affection away casually, and if he cares for someone and they betray him, he doesn't forgive easily.

Justin may not be shocked by the extent of Lou's treachery, but he's pretty damn depressed by it. They all are, but Justin's the worst. Joey wishes he were angry, like the rest of them, but mostly he's quiet and subdued. Only once does he let go, once, after Joey's fucked him, and they're laying in bed, the silence heavy between them.

"Justin, do you want-" Joey starts, but Justin either doesn't notice or doesn't care that Joey's talking. He sits up abruptly and slams his fist into the wall.

"I hate him, that fucker, fuck him, I hate him so much," he yells, pounding his hand against the hotel room wall until Joey grabs him from behind, pinning his arms to his sides, and hangs on.

Justin's strong and he fights, struggling to get free, screaming, "Fuck you, Joey, fuck you, get off, fuck, FUCK!!" But Joey is stronger and Justin eventually gives up, sagging in his arms. He doesn't cry, but Joey holds him for a long time while they rock slowly together, just breathing.

Afterwards, Joey kisses his bruised knuckles and Justin smiles at him. "Joey," he murmurs sleepily.

In the morning Chris is watching them again. Joey knows he had the room next to theirs last night, so he's not surprised when Chris corners him on the way to the bus and says, "What was the deal last night? I heard- it sounded like someone was banging-" He stops, peering up at Joey uncertainly.

Chris is no stranger to pounding on the walls in anger, Joey knows, so he simply says, "J was pretty mad last night." He doesn't add that he was happy to see it, that it was a welcome change from Justin's usual depressed state.

Chris seems to think the same thing, though, because he nods and says, "Good." He gives Joey a tight smile and says, "See you on the bus, Joe."

Joey watches as Chris hurries to catch up to Justin. He grabs his ass as he trots past, and yells, "Last one on the bus is a rotten egg, Timberlake, you pussy!"

Justin yelps, then laughs and races to catch up.

*

Joey stares at Chris in amazement. They all do, really. His braids are gone. His hair is short and spiky, which really, is a perfect way to describe his mood these days.

"I just wanted to. Do you know how much trouble those damn things were?" His tone doesn't invite discussion. Joey knows this is tangled up with the lawsuit, but he can't figure out exactly how.

Only Justin doesn't seem surprised. He looks at Chris across the lunch table and Joey can see the appreciation in his eyes.

"We'd better get going," Joey says. He stands up abruptly. "Don't wanna be late for another meeting with the lawyers."

As they file out of the room, he catches JC regarding him with something like sympathy in his eyes.

*

They win. Joey can't believe it, they fucking win. The judge orders an injunction, and they win.

They celebrate at Joey's parents' house. His dad walks around teary-eyed, hugging everyone in sight. Bev keeps patting his shoulder, saying, "I know, Joe, I know."

Diane and Lynn are both triumphant, although Lynn is louder about it. Jim and Roy have been talking over in the corner of the living room for hours, it seems like, a conversation punctuated by frequent bursts of exuberant laughter. Joey hadn't realized how angry Karen was until it was all over, but, boy, does he know now, after catching parts of her discussion with Paul.

He loves them all fiercely, and he needs to get some air.

Justin and Chris are already outside, their heads bent together, talking quietly. The quiet part's unusual enough to make Joey pause, not making his presence known, and then Justin reaches out and traces his finger slowly down Chris's cheek, an expression of adoration on his face. He brings his finger to his mouth and touches it with his tongue, puts it in his mouth, tasting Chris's tears. Joey shivers as he watches them. Justin is so tender with Chris, which Chris usually doesn't allow, and it makes Joey ache inside.

He clears his throat and they turn to look at him. Chris glances up at Justin, then moves to go into the house. As he walks past Joey, he reaches out and snags his waist in a one-armed hug. Joey tips his head down and touches Chris's soft hair with his cheek for a moment, then lets him by. He's filled with love for all of them, for what they've done, for the way the future waits, ready for them to grab it by the balls.

Justin watches Chris enter the house, then looks at Joey. Joey smiles and Justin leans forward and kisses him softly on the mouth.

"Joey," he whispers. "I love you."

"I know, J," Joey says. He kisses Justin back and lets him go.

*****

Justin is a nervous wreck, waiting for No Strings Attached to drop. What if they've miscalculated, what if no one buys it, what if Lou was right and they're nothing without Transcon? What if the name NSYNC doesn't mean anything, isn't magic like they think it is? He stares miserably at the wall, while the crappy hotel artwork, some kind of surrealistic flower arrangement, stares back at him.

He jumps up from the bed and heads for the desk, where Chris's CD's are scattered haphazardly over its surface. He starts to stack them neatly, automatically alphabetizing them as he repeats the titles to himself under his breath.

"Justin." He doesn't respond. Chris has a lot of CDs and he's concentrating here. "Justin, for fuck's sake, get your ass back over here." Chris sounds exasperated, and Justin turns to glare at him. He's sitting up, leaning back against the headboard, the sheet pulled up to his waist. His hair sticks up in about twenty different directions and he has a livid red mark over his collarbone.

"What!?" Justin snaps, then blinks at the fond amusement he sees on Chris's face.

"Get your ass over here," Chris repeats, and this time his voice is warm with suppressed laughter.

"I was just there, and it didn't help. Now I'm over here." Justin knows he's being childish, but he can't help it. What if-

"Oh, for the love of God, would you please stop obsessing? It's out of our hands, we can't do anything about it now." Chris tilts his head quizzically. He looks like a bright-eyed, slightly demented bird. "J, are you happy with the album? Do you like it? Do you think it's good?" He frowns. "Did we or did we not work our asses off on that thing?"

"Yeah. I- yes, we did. I know, okay? I just- I can't help it, you know?" Justin sighs, because now he's just being dramatic.

"C'mere, baby." Chris waits patiently. It always surprises Justin how patient Chris is with him. It's so...not-Chris-like.

He gives in and moves back over to the bed. "I don't know what good this'll do. You already fucked me stupid." It's true, and Justin feels used and sated, but his body still thrums with nervous energy.

"Well, let me fuck you stupider, then," Chris replies. He smiles and pats the bed next to him. "Right here."

"How do you still have the energy for that, dude?" Justin asks as he climbs in and stretches out next to Chris, licking over the bite on his chest. Chris hisses and then shoves at Justin's head.

"What are you implying, Timberlake? Are you saying I'm old, that I can't keep up with a youngster such as yourself?" His hand tangles in Justin's hair, threatening to pull it.

"If the shoe fits, old man." He waits, looking up at Chris and grinning.

Chris narrows his eyes. "I'll show you old, dickhead." Justin quickly finds himself on his back, and manages to forget the CD drop for at least the next hour.

Afterwards, they lay there together, panting up at the ceiling. "Is that all you got, old man?" Justin asks, when he catches his breath.

Chris squawks weakly in protest. "You're gonna kill me one of these days, you know, and then where will you be?"

Justin makes a move to get up. Chris pins him with a hand in the middle of his chest. "Jesus, stay put for five minutes." They have a brief staring contest, which Chris wins, of course, because he's a freak, and Justin gives in and lays back down, his head on Chris's pillow.

Chris kisses his cheek. "Seriously, J. It's gonna be fine."

It's more than fine, it's 2.4 million in one week.

*

The tour is fucking huge. MTV's been around for what feels like forever, filming the tour prep, and it's just the biggest thing Justin's ever been a part of. They're the biggest thing Justin's ever been a part of, and it's so fucking cool. He's nineteen years old, and this is his life. Unfuckingbelievable.

On the flight to Tacoma, Chris can't sit still. If airplane bathrooms weren't so damn small, Justin would be tempted to pull his ass into one and blow him into some semblance of calm. Of course, he knows that's the stuff of fantasies. It's not something they could ever actually do.

They get on the bus at the airport for the short ride to the hotel. Justin and Chris sit at the table, and MTV is still there, but Justin doesn't mind. He's humming with anticipation, even though the first show isn't until tomorrow night. Chris's eyes are hot on him, and Justin has to avoid looking at him for fear of giving something away to the cameras.

That night, neither one of them can sleep. This is so familiar, trying to fuck away nerves and anticipation, and Justin wonders how he ever made it through these situations without Chris, and before him, Joey. Chris, with his rough, careless caresses, touches that block everything out for a while. Chris knows him so well, knows just how to push him to his knees, or roll him over onto his stomach, keeping the nerves at bay just a little longer.

The night after the first show, it's not nerves, but adrenalin that has Justin flying. It was so fucking good, and they were amazing, and he's so high on it that he can't settle down at all. But they're on the bus, and there's no way he can have Chris tonight.

Actually, all of them seem to be in the same hyped-up state, and for a minute Justin thinks they're teetering on the verge of some kind of group circle jerk or something, but JC's face closes off and Lance yawns unconvincingly and says he's going to bed. He heads back to the bunks and JC stares out the window. Justin doesn't hear him get into bed until long after the others are asleep.

*

There's bad weather in Illinois and they cancel two concerts. Britney's on the phone, trying to persuade Justin to come to her show in Scranton. She misses him, and truthfully, he misses her. She's a whole different thing from Chris, soft and quiet. He's never laughed so much during sex in his life as he does with Chris, or come as hard as he does when Chris rides him, pining his wrists to the bed while he slides slowly up and down on Justin's cock, stopping and shaking his head no every time Justin tries to push his hips up, dark eyes warning him not to move. Chris may have a short attention span, but Justin hasn't noticed it in bed. He doesn't let Justin get away with anything.

Brit's easier, though, and sometimes Justin needs for things to be easy.

Chris just shrugs when Justin tells him he's going. "Whatever, J." He and JC are engrossed in a game of Halo. "Give Brit a kiss for me," and he looks up at Justin then, leering at him.

"Whatever, asshole," Justin shoots back at him. A complacent little smile plays across JC's lips as Chris settles back down beside him. Justin frowns, suddenly unsure about leaving.

The press gets hold of Justin's visit to Britney and makes a big deal out of it, with headlines like Justin Surprises Britney and Justin and Britney Still In Love. Justin knows it's good publicity for them both, so he's glad he went.

*

"This is some scary fucking shit," Chris says, waving his and Justin's marionette dolls around in the air. "Fans'll buy anything, won't they?" They're sitting on the couch in the Quiet Room at Madison Square Garden, waiting to go live on fucking HBO. Justin's giddy with the thought of how many people will be watching them. This is the biggest concert of his life. His stomach flutters with nervous excitement and he looks at Chris, except there's nothing Chris can do about it right now.

Chris stares at him for a long moment, then without taking his eyes off of Justin's, he brings the two marionettes together, pressing them close, moving them slowly, rhythmically against each other. Justin's eyes widen and Chris lowers the dolls to the couch, quickly shoving the Chris-doll's pants down.

Justin stares in disbelief as Chris bends the Justin-doll's knees and arranges them so that Marionette-Chris is standing, leaning against the arm of the couch and Marionette-Justin is on his knees with his face in Chris's crotch. Chris grins at him, then switches them around, pushing Justin's pants down, too, and placing him on all fours with Chris leaning over his back. Then Chris slowly, deliberately moves his doll, thrusting it against Justin's doll's ass and Justin flushes with heat, and then he can't stop the laughter that's bubbling up from inside, and he cracks up. He laughs until tears run down his face, and the whole time, Chris just keeps pumping his doll into Justin's doll.

When Justin's laughter finally subsides and he can breath again, Chris rolls both dolls over on their backs side by side and looks at Justin smugly. Justin feels remarkably relaxed now, like he's just had an amazing orgasm or something. Fucking Chris.

JC is peering over at them curiously from where he's curled up in his chair, headphones on, going through his pre-show routine of listening to the game tape from the previous show. Chris looks back at him and then closes his eye in a wink. JC looks away, flushing.

Justin watches the exchange uneasily, then Lance says, "It's time, let's go," and the adrenalin surge wipes everything else out of Justin's mind.

The show is fucking awesome, they're awesome, and as they watch the playback afterwards, they're all so fucking pumped, especially JC. But when they see JC lick the stage during Digital Getdown, they're pretty much stunned into silence. JC humping the stage at that point in the song isn't a surprise, that's why the camera was there in the first place. But he's never licked the stage before, at least not that Justin's seen.

Then Chris says, "What the fuck was that, JC?" His voice is higher than usual and he clears his throat. Justin knows JC's hot, hell, he's got eyes, he knows it, they all know it. But the way Chris is looking at JC, like he's never seen anything like him before, well, Justin isn't sure he likes it.

JC shrugs. "Got caught up in the moment, I guess." He stares back at Chris.

Chris looks away first. "Well, dude, it's pretty damn sexy. That ought to get all the little girls going."

"And their mommas, too," Lance mutters from somewhere behind Justin.

Joey laughs and whatever tension was in the room is gone. They watch the rest of the concert with Chris's hand planted firmly in the small of Justin's back, and Justin lets the warmth from that soothe him.

*

The first leg of the tour ends and after a few days of sleep, Justin's refreshed and ready to go again. He, Chris and JC attend the Teen Choice Awards, and then JC and Bobbie leave to go out to dinner by themselves. Things are as unpleasant in that area as they usually are, but no one says anything. Whatever JC's deal is with Bobbie, it's his business. Justin doesn't like how he looks, sometimes, after he and Bobbie spend time together, tense and kind of defeated. She's been around a lot on this tour, and Justin thinks touring isn't the only thing JC needs a break from.

Chris watches them as they walk away with Tiny. His hands are clenched into tight fists, and he grimaces when he sees Justin staring at him. He grabs Justin's elbow and tugs. "Let's go," he snaps.

They head back to the hotel. Their plan is to call Room Service and spend some quality time together, time that doesn't involve the other three guys, video games, or screaming fans. But Chris is in a crappy mood.

First, he says he doesn't care what they eat, Justin should just hurry the fuck up and order something, for Chrissakes. Then he bitches because there's no X-Box in the room. He channel surfs rapidly, stabbing at the buttons on the remote like they owe him money, and finally Justin's had enough.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, man?" His voice is more plaintive than angry, and that'll probably piss Chris off more. He'd rather fight than listen to Justin whine.

He's right. Chris throws the remote across the room and hisses, "Don't whine, Justin. There's nothing wrong with me." He jumps up and starts pacing, throwing his arms around and ranting, "I just hate that bitch. I hate what she does to him!"

What? Oh, JC. He doesn’t disagree, so they really have nothing to fight about, except that it's obviously what Chris wants to do. Justin sighs. It's not how he planned to spend tonight, but if Chris needs it, he will. Whatever. It's Chris.

Justin wakes up with morning sunlight glaring in his face. That's one of the things he hates about hotels, how daylight can find its way through small cracks in the drapes, like a laser with no other lights in the room to diffuse it. He's draped across Chris's chest and Chris is snoring in his ear. He drags his ass out of bed, moving slowly, his back stiff as hell. His knee is also registering a protest at all the action, and he can only imagine what Chris's ass feels like. He grins. He doesn't often get the chance to fuck Chris, so his knee can just shut up.

*

Justin thinks Dani is the coolest girl he's ever met. She's almost as funny as Chris, although not nearly as hyper. She flies out from LA to join Chris on tour whenever she can, usually about once a week.

The tour starts back up again in October, and this time they have two buses. They can afford them, and they decide it's time to spread out. Joey and Lance have about twenty animals between them that they want to drag along on the bus, and JC is claiming allergies to at least half of them, so that's how they decide who sleeps where.

Much as Justin loves JC, he's not sure that he wants him on the same bus as him and Chris.

It's a travel day, and they leave the hotel around noon. They're going to be driving all night and Justin's looking forward to a little down time. None of the girlfriends are with them. Britney's on her own tour, Bobbie is in New York and Dani's in LA. After they get on the bus, JC heads to the back, flipping his phone open as he goes. He's been quiet all morning and Justin knows he's calling Bobbie.

He and Chris are engrossed in The Empire Strikes Back when JC comes up to the lounge. He rummages around in the small refrigerator, emerging with a bottle of orange juice. He flops down on the couch next to Chris and puts his head on his shoulder, sighing. Chris doesn't take his eyes off the screen, he just reaches up and pets JC's hair. That's how they watch the rest of the movie, with JC curled around Chris, Chris's hand anchored in his hair, and Justin sitting alone at the end of the couch.

*

It's the last show of the tour and everyone is there. Britney joins them onstage and they sing Happy Birthday to her. The screams of the crowd are deafening.

There's a huge after-party and Justin gets shit-faced. Lance is totally plastered and Joey and Kelly haven't stopped laughing all night. For once, JC and Bobbie are getting along, and JC doesn't even seem to mind Bobbie hanging all over him. At one point, Justin sees Chris and Dani talking in a corner, and they look pretty serious. Chris has a death-grip on his beer bottle, and Dani is frowning.

Justin leaves with Britney.

At the Billboard Awards, Chris and JC stage a big fight at the podium. It goes on a lot longer than Justin thinks is funny, and he's not happy about where he sees JC's hands land a couple of times. And then they go off to Vegas, just the two of them. Justin tries to put them out of his mind while he spends time with Britney.

In late December they have a meeting in Orlando, at the Compound, and it's while they're taking a break that Justin sees them. Chris has been unnaturally quiet all afternoon, and now JC has his arms around him, down one of the corridors off the big meeting room. He's talking quietly in Chris's ear, and Chris nods his head a few times. Then Chris straightens up and Justin sees him swipe a hand across his eyes. They catch sight of Justin and Chris murmurs something to JC that Justin doesn't catch. JC plants a kiss on Chris's forehead and turns, walking back up the hallway. As he passes Justin, he reaches out and touches his shoulder briefly.

"Chris?" There's a cold feeling in Justin's stomach, and his throat feels tight. Chris's eyes are red-rimmed and he gives Justin a weak smile.

"Me and Dani broke up." Whatever Justin expected, it's not that.

"God. Are you-" Of course he's not all right, that's pretty fucking obvious. They just stand there, Chris looking small and lost, until Justin moves, enfolding him in his arms and hanging on tight. Chris stiffens for a minute, then relaxes into the embrace. He lets out a watery sigh.

"J." Chris clears his throat and tries again. "J, um, yeah, me and C..." he trails off and Justin doesn’t say anything. It's not like he's all that surprised. Chris lifts his head and looks searchingly at him. Then he kisses him softly, and Justin thinks it feels like an apology. He kisses Chris back and lets him go.

*****

Chris is totally blown away by JC's energy tonight. He could probably stay onstage forever, he's so totally amped by the crowd, the band, the music. It's always something to see, especially up close, but tonight it's something else entirely.

"I fucking love fucking Rio!" JC howls as he throws himself onto the bed. The hotel has provided them with complimentary baskets of everything Chris can imagine, and some things he can't. He snags a bottle of Cristal out of the ice bucket on the table and JC laughs at him as he struggles with the cork. He manages to open the bottle without putting either one of their eyes out, something he's absurdly proud of, given how drunk he already is.

"Get your ass over here, fucker," JC demands, shoving his pants down and stripping off his shirt. All the practice they get with quick costume changes really pays off sometimes, Chris thinks. Nobody can get out of their clothes faster than JC. It's one of his greatest talents.

Chris takes a swig of champagne and launches himself at the bed, startling a giggle out of JC. The champagne bubbles up out of the bottle, foaming over his hand, and he tips it slightly, sloshing some on JC's stomach.

"Goddamn, that's cold," JC complains, curling in on himself. Chris pushes him onto his back and dribbles more champagne over him, then leans down and licks the droplets off his belly, slurping loudly where it's pooled in his navel. JC laughs, then hisses when Chris pours the cold liquid a little farther down.

Chris grins up at him, then lowers his head and licks his way up the length of his cock, before taking the head in his mouth and sucking hard. The taste of champagne is sharp on his tongue. JC curses him again, and Chris gets busy, deciding he's going to bring JC off in record time. That'll at least take his adrenalin edge off, and then they can relax and do some serious fucking.

By the time JC comes, they’re both soaked with spilled champagne, and Chris is laughing hysterically as JC describes what he’s going to do to him with the empty bottle.

Chris only hopes he’s kidding.

*

"Which studly boy-band member hooked up with a hunky publicist at the party William Morris threw at the Synergy Spa at Sundance? After several drinks, the pop star and his pal went into one of the rooms and had a quickie while his bodyguard watched the door – denying entry to the person staying there. Since then, the singer has been calling the guy trying to arrange other trysts, to no avail."

They're all trying to pretend they didn't see the blind item in the NY Post. Well, all except Joey, who taped it to the steering wheel of Lance's car. At least that's what Joey tells Chris at lunch. "If he's going to do shit like that, then I'm gonna give him shit about it," he shrugs.

Justin really doesn't care and Chris only cares because JC seems to.

JC's been tight-lipped since he read it. Chris isn't sure why he should get a bug up his ass about it. It's not like Lance did something none of the rest of them have ever done, regardless of the gender of the hook-up. But then, Chris will never figure JC out when it comes to Lance, not if he lives to be a hundred.

They've been in the studio all afternoon, and Lance has apparently had enough of the thinly veiled looks of disapproval JC keeps throwing his way. "What!?" he suddenly yells at JC, yanking off his headphones. "What the hell is your problem?"

"I don't got a problem, dude," JC says, shaking his head. He frowns down at the soundboard.

"Good!" Lance snaps. He glares around at the rest of them. "I need a break."

After he's stomped off to the bathroom, or vending machines, or wherever, Chris approaches JC, standing behind him and rubbing his shoulders. JC tenses up under his hands, and Chris lets go, feeling hurt.

JC sighs and rolls his head, stretching his neck and grimacing. "That felt good, man, I'm so tight.” He shoots a puzzled look at Chris. “Why'd you stop?"

Chris starts rubbing again. Nope, JC and Lance are just too weird for him to understand.

Lance comes back a few minutes later with two cans of Coke. He opens one for himself and hands the other to JC. That seems to be all it takes. JC's smile is sunny again and they get back to work.

*

Lance and Joey spend most of March in Toronto, filming Lance's movie. That's what Chris calls it in his head, Lance's Movie. He misses them, it's totally weird recording without them, and he hates that they’re letting Wade do vocals on at least one of the new tracks.

But Chris has JC's undivided attention with Lance gone, and he likes that. Well, except for when Bobbie drags him off for a weekend in New York or LA, which she does sporadically. She never seems to give him a lot of advance warning, either.

It makes Chris miss Dani fiercely.

JC comes home from one of those weekend jaunts in a foul mood. Chris figures Bobbie's been pushing his buttons again, and he's right. JC's not easy, if anyone knows that, Chris does, but for crying out loud, Bobbie ought to know how to handle him by now. She's not exactly stupid.

It takes Chris at least two days of sex and careful attention to get JC back in shape for the studio. There's no way he's going to subject Justin to JC in this kind of a state, so he calls him and tells him to go spend time with his famous girlfriend.

"We're just gonna chill here at the house," he says.

"Right," Justin says. He knows the score. "Okay, then, I'll see you in a few."

Chris hangs up the phone and turns back to the bed. JC's curled up around his pillow, snoring lightly. Chris thinks this is the best JC's hair has ever been, making him seem softer and more accessible. He decides to take pity on him and let him sleep a little longer, so he climbs into the bed behind him and winds his arms around JC's waist. He falls asleep with JC's t-shirt clutched in his hand.

*

JC doesn't even wait until they're all the way in the limo to start yelling at Chris.

He hadn't meant to do it, really. But time just seemed to stand still while he and Justin, not to mention a theater full of people, waited for JC to spit out whatever it was he was trying to say. He does not think JC is stupid, or incapable of speaking in front of a large group of people, and no, JC isn't so dumb that he can't accept a lame-ass award like a Blockbuster Award without Chris's help. Really. It was just an impulse, a spur of the moment kind of thing. It just happened, and he's sorry.

"A fucking impulse? Just a spur of the moment thing for you to fucking interrupt me? It just fucking happened, that you practically pushed me off the fucking stage so that you could fucking talk?"

Justin stares out the window. He won't help either of them, Chris knows. He's like fucking Switzerland.

JC'll get over it, but in the meantime, Chris tries to look sufficiently penitent without smiling too much. He doesn’t want JC to get too mad. Although judging by the way his arms are flailing now, it may be too late. Justin ducks as an elbow heads his way, and Chris can't help it, he lets a laugh escape. Just a tiny, suppressed guffaw, but JC hears it and rounds on him in a fury.

"You fucker! I hate it when you do that!" He looks totally hot, all flushed and bright-eyed, but Chris doesn't push it by telling him that. He meant it when he said he doesn't think JC is stupid, but neither is Chris, so he keeps his mouth shut and lets JC yell until he feels better.

Finally, spent, JC leans back against the seat and closes his eyes. Chris edges closer to him, his leg nudging JC's thigh, and lets their shoulders bump together. JC doesn't protest, so Chris's hand tentatively begins to rub JC's knee. Chris sees a smile twitching at the corner of JC's mouth and he looks over at Justin and grins.

Justin just shakes his head, pulling out his cell phone to call Britney now that the limo isn't reverberating with the sounds of JC's wrath.

Chris leans in and kisses the little smile. JC jerks his head away, but the smile widens. Chris follows him, planting another kiss on those amazing lips, and the next thing he knows, JC has him pinned to the seat with hot hard kisses that make him abandon all thoughts of struggle.

The limo pulls up at their hotel and Justin politely gestures for them to get out first, rueful amusement on his face. Chris can tell JC is holding himself back, keeping tight control on his need to hustle Chris's ass up to his room without any regard for who might be watching. In the elevator, he grabs Chris's wrist and holds it tight, his thumb gently rubbing the soft skin there, at odds with the firm grip he keeps on it.

The doors slide open and JC jerks him out into the corridor. They're lucky, there's no one around, and JC tows him down the hallway to their room. He gets the door open and pushes Chris inside.

Mmmmm, Chris thinks as he's shoved up against the wall. No, he hadn't meant to make JC mad, but he's not sorry he did.

*

JC's appointed himself Joey's keeper for the Pop video shoot, and that's a good thing. Joe needs a damn keeper sometimes, and it's too bad he didn’t have one two days earlier. Maybe then he wouldn't have almost chopped off his own leg. Chris wants to smack him for being such a klutz, but he's sure that attitude won't mix well with whatever pain pills Joey's popping, so he stays out of the way, fooling around with Justin and the MTV cameras and letting JC play nursemaid.

Then they’re back in Orlando for the final tour prep. They're heading out in less than ten days and Chris is a little nervous about being on the bus with JC and Justin. It's not like there's any bad feelings between them, but still, it's a little awkward. Who knew that he, Chris Kirkpatrick, was sexy enough to be caught between two of the hottest guys on the planet? Well, Chris has always suspected he was just that sexy, but it's nice to have confirmation of it.

Except being out on tour means Justin is always flying off to see Britney whenever he has the chance, and Bobbie is always flying in to see JC, and Chris has no one to fly in or out for, so sometimes he just feels lonely, instead of sexy.

Lance watches Bobbie with something like actual hate in his eyes, and Chris finds that kind of disturbing. He has no idea if JC sees it or not.

When JC's in a sexy mood, he's hard to deny, so Justin gets an eyeful more times than Chris would like. The bus is only so big, after all. That doesn't bother Chris as much as he thinks it should. It bothers him more when they're in the Quiet Room before a show and JC decides that the only way to psych himself up and center himself and get all Zen and shit is to make out with Chris fifteen minutes before they get called for make-up. In the first place, Chris is plenty psyched up already, just knowing that half-way through the show, he's going to be flying over the crowd in a damn harness. That's more than enough to get his adrenalin going, and he doesn't need to get all worked up from the feel of JC's mouth and the taste of his skin, too.

The problem is, Lance watches them. It's not a great idea, to get Lance all pissy before a concert, and that's what happens, he gets all tight-lipped and narrow-eyed, and then Joey has to distract him by telling him stupid jokes. Sometimes, if the jokes are bad enough, it only annoys Lance more. The whole thing makes Justin edgy, and Chris wishes JC would just cut it the fuck out.

It's not like he can tell JC no, or anything.

*

"What?" Chris stares at JC, not sure he heard what he thinks he heard. "Dude, are you okay? Why didn't I know about this before?"

JC waves his hand in the air. "Man, I don't know. Why didn't you?" He doesn't meet Chris's eyes.

Chris just stares some more. That's totally unfair. "I mean, asshole, why didn't you tell me? When did this happen?" His voice is sharp and JC frowns.

"I don't have to tell you every little thing. It's not like we're-" he breaks off, and at least has the grace to look embarrassed.

"Every little thing?!" Chris practically screeches, ignoring the last part of that statement for now. "JC, you and Bobbie broke up! That's not a little thing!" He can't believe this. What the hell does he mean, little thing?

JC rounds on him, practically yelling at him. "Maybe I think it's a little thing. Maybe I'm okay with it, and it doesn't have to be a...a thing!"

Chris isn't buying it. "When, JC?" he demands.

"Last weekend," JC mumbles, looking embarrassed again.

"So that's why-" Chris says softly, almost to himself. JC and Lance had been huddled in a corner of the bus when Chris got on yesterday, and Lance had ridden with them, saying Joey wanted some alone time with Kelly and Briahna. They spent most of the ride playing Halo together. Two days ago, Chris walked in on them in the Quiet Room, with their foreheads pressed together, Lance's hand on the back of JC's neck, talking quietly in his ear. He tries to ignore how much it hurts that JC went to Lance first. He knows exactly what it means. "Okay, man," he shrugs. "Whatever. It's your thing."

"Chris, okay, dude, I- I'm sorry I didn't tell you before." JC looks down, his hand on the back of his neck, fingers running through his hair. He’s clearly uncomfortable.

Chris shakes his head. "It's okay, C. Seriously, you're all right and everything?"

JC nods. "It was time." Now he just looks sad.

It was past time, but Chris doesn't say that part out loud. "C'mere, baby." He pats the bed next to him. JC hesitates, then sits down beside him. He sighs and puts his head on Chris's shoulder. Chris wraps an arm around his waist and holds on tight.

*

JC has a small party at his house in Orlando for Chris's thirtieth birthday. Turning thirty should feel more significant than it does, but there's been too many other things to think about. They've been busy with plans for the big United We Stand concert, and the Miami concert, plus they want to do a televised concert in the Bahamas.

And then there's the premiere of Lance's Movie. JC goes, but Chris has things to do with FuManSkeeto that he can't ignore, no matter what JC says about showing support for each other.

So his party is small, but he has a good time. JC's mood has lightened a bit, which is nice, because it's been a rough couple of months for all of them.

When everyone else has gone, JC takes him upstairs and makes love to him in a way that makes Chris ache with longing. It feels like it's the last time, but that's how JC does everything since September 11, underlaid with sadness.

Chris hopes that spending a couple of days in Atlantis will help. It's not exactly a vacation, they're working the whole time, but it's beautiful there. Swimming with the dolphins seems to make JC inordinately happy.

Swimming with Lance seems to make JC happy, too. Chris feels like all the sadness that JC lets go of transfers itself to him. He feels weighed down by it, and is grateful when Justin informs him that they will be taking golf lessons together when they get home, whether Chris thinks he needs them or not.

After the concert, they stand in the hallway outside Chris's room. Chris wants to ask JC in, but he doesn't. The door to Lance's room opens and Lance looks out at them. No one says anything, then Lance pushes his door closed again. JC looks sad, and that’s the last thing Chris wants.

"C'mere, baby," he says, and tugs JC to him. JC kisses him almost desperately, then pulls away, looking towards Lance's door.

"Be happy, C," Chris says. He kisses JC back and lets him go.

*****

JC stares at Lance. He knows his mouth is hanging open and he hopes nothing bug-like flies by and decides to take a detour. It's apparently the only response he's capable of. He can't even form words. Lance is looking at him with bemusement. And something else, excitement maybe, or maybe fear, JC isn't sure.

"Say something, C."

Say something? What can he possibly say? This is so huge, this is beyond anything JC could have ever imagined when Lance said he had something to tell him.

Finally, JC manages to find words. One word, anyway. "Space?" he croaks out. "Space? Like-" He points upwards toward the sky, then feels like an idiot. Of course that's where space is. But...space? "Space?" he says again.

Lance laughs at him, looking relieved. "Yes, JC," and he points up at the stars, too. "That space."

"Oh my God, Lance. Are you fucking kidding me? Like, for real, man? Space? When? How? Who-" he breaks off and just breathes in and out through his nose.

Lance laughs again, and he's humming with excitement.

JC starts to laugh with him. "Oh my God. Lance! Space! You fucker, space!" He shivers. Salt Lake City is fucking cold. JC's glad Lance waited until the Olympic Closing Ceremonies were finished, and they could steal a few minutes to walk around by themselves, before telling him about maybe being able to go to space. JC can't imagine how Lance kept it to himself all day. Or how he managed to make it through the National Anthem with the knowledge. But Lance has always been much cooler about things than JC is. He feels things, but he doesn't show them so much.

But now he's talking JC's ear off, telling him all the details about the space deal and what he has to do to make it happen. "I haven't told anyone else yet, C, you're the first. Well, except for Mom and Dad, and Stacy and Ford. And Wendy, of course." JC laughs, but he knows what Lance means. He means he hasn't told Joey yet.

The feeling of being first with Lance is a new one, although he doesn't think it should be. He likes it, though, and he's terrified it won't last.

JC feels a tap on his shoulder. Lonnie. The crowd is growing and Lonnie's had enough. He herds them to the waiting SUV and drives them back to the hotel. He tells them the others are already there. JC's not interested in the others tonight. He doesn't want to share Lance's news with them yet. He wants to keep that for himself just a little while longer.

He's never felt anything sweeter than Lance under him, all quiet moans and soft gasps, kissing him like he never wants to stop.

*

They‘ve never arranged the buses around who's sleeping with who before, but for the first time, JC wishes they could. He's not worried abut Joey this time, but he feels like a part of him is missing when he's not in he same room as Lance. He finds he's touching Lance at odd times to reassure himself. Lance smiles at him and touches back.

JC thinks they're stronger this time, or at least older and wiser.

They spend a lot of time and energy on this tour dealing with Justin and Britney's breakup. Justin is devastated and they all hurt for him. JC's ideas of fidelity have been somewhat fluid in the past few years, but he’s beyond pissed at Britney.

Joey may be on the verge of getting his head out of his ass about Kelly, and that adds some much needed stability to the tour.

They're all tired, but JC thinks maybe Chris is the most tired of all of them. He feels a little responsible for that, for the part of Chris that needs to be away from the group for a while. It's been a long six years, it’s probably like sixty years in normal time, and they're all tired.

Lance, though, Lance isn't really tired. He's ready, so ready for his next big adventure. JC knows he's crossing each concert off of the list in his head, each mark bringing him closer to space. A busy Lance is a happy Lance, but JC's never seen anything quite like this before. It's like when he and Joey were working on the movie, only a hundredfold.

They have several days between shows, and Lance and his dad go to Russia. When they come back, JC expects Lance's ass to be dragging, but he throws himself into their next concert with abandon. Afterwards, he's almost drunk with jet lag, and together, JC and Joey haul him onto the bus and put him to bed. JC stays on their bus late into the night, until the drivers stop for coffee and he can go back to his own bus.

"Can you believe it?" he asks, his head lolling on Joey's shoulder as they speed down the winding mountain roads, away from Denver and towards the flat spaces of Iowa. JC only knows where they are because Lance keeps track so obsessively these days. "Fucking space."

"That bastard," Joey agrees. "He sucks." He presses a kiss into JC's hair.

"He sucks so hard," JC sighs. "I mean, literally, he does." He giggles, and so does Joey. JC's so grateful for all of them, and for a minute, he panics at the idea that it's ending.

Joey’s arm tightens around his waist. "It's gonna be fine, C. All of it. All of us. We’re fine."

JC nods sleepily. "I know, Joe."

*

They go out to eat in Philly and it feels weirdly like a date. Just him, Lance, Lonnie and Tiny. A double-date.

JC looks at Lance's beloved, familiar face and feels a bittersweet happiness. Finally, again, still, and with everything that was missing the first time around, but there's a time limit now.

They have so much fun they do it again the next night, after the concert. They're surrounded by people; friends, girls, bodyguards, but JC is acutely aware of Lance's presence, knowing without looking where he is and what he's doing.

JC has money these days, he has fame, he has a lot of clout with regards to a lot of things. But he can't make time stand still, and truth be told, he wouldn't even if he could. The last weeks of the tour fly by in a blur of color and noise, music and people. He can't leave the stage in Orlando, can't make himself do it, and Joey has to come up and get him.

Joey drags him over to Lance and JC collapses in tears in Lance's arms. "Shh, baby, it's fine, it's all good, come on," he croons in JC's ear and JC shivers as Lance's voice vibrates through him.

*

The night before Lance leaves for Russia, there's a party, because it's Lance. JC just watches, chilling in a corner, trying not to get too drunk, as everyone Lance has ever known tells him goodbye and wishes him luck.

When they're finally alone, it's almost time to leave for the airport. "You know how totally cool I think this is, man, right?" JC asks. Lance's answer is muffled, his face hidden in JC's shoulder. "I'm so proud of you. I always have been," he adds.

This is the only time JC's seen Lance let his guard down since the whole space thing started. He looks up at JC, his eyes wet. "I love you," he says, before he kisses JC hungrily.

JC kisses Lance back and lets him go.

Four months later, Lance calls him from Houston. "I need you," he says.

JC’s on the next plane out.

*****

Notes: There's no way I could have done this without Canalbaby's increcible chronology. I think I say that with every story, but really, Cressy, it's invaluable. Also, thank you so much to Pierson, Silveryscrape, and Bellaphena. This was written for Without Me and Music Diamonds's You Taste Like Honey, Honey Challenge. I'm sure that Lance does indeed taste like honey.

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