Copyright April 9-10, 2001 by Matthew Haldeman-Time

Rating: PG-13?

Pairing: Lance Bass/AJ McLean

Disclaimer: The young men who comprise the Backstreet Boys and *NSYNC are their own people.  The author has not met anyone here described, nor does the author mean to suggest that these people act this way in real life.  This writing is a work of fiction.  I make no money from this venture.

Dedication: This slashfic is for Ewan McGregor and the Savage Garden slashers.

Wherein AJ is whipping out things, Lance is looking good, and someone's at the door.

        But a man.  A man wanting him, flirting with him.  He wasn't used to it.  Except for AJ, he'd never encountered it.  And not any man, but a supermodel.  With a French accent.  Michel was gorgeous.  Friendly.  Interested in him.  It was flattering.

        He was with AJ.  Not literally, not physically. since AJ was far away and they hadn't seen each other in a long time.  A long time.  But AJ was his...lover...and Michel knew that.  So it wasn't a date, tonight.  Because he was in a committed relationship.  He wasn't cheating on AJ.  It was one night, a night out, nothing serious.  Nothing significant.  Just one night.

        AJ was the first and only man he'd ever been with, in any romantic sense.  If he were dating Michel, this would be his first date with a man, since he and AJ had never gotten a chance to go out on a date.  Flirting, dating, all of those steps - - they comprised a fascinating and provocative dance, and he'd never danced with a man.

        He wondered what it was like.

        He wondered what Michel would wear tonight.

        He wondered whether AJ-

        "Hello?"

        "Hey, Lance.  You look good tonight?"

        "AJ."

        "I'm the one.  You look good tonight?"

        "Yeah."

        "What are you wearing?"

        "AJ-"

        "Yeah, you should be wearing me.  I should be on you.  I should be all over you."

        "Are you going on soon?"

        "I'm on all the time.  You know that."

        "I know that," Lance agreed, giving in, as he always did.  An unexpected, seductive purr had entered his voice.  He decided to go with it.  "What about you?  Do you look good tonight?"

        "Good enough to eat.  You hungry?"

        "I could eat a horse."

        "Good thing I'm hung like one."

        Lance laughed.  "How was the conference?"

        AJ groaned.  "I'll never live it down."

        "What happened?"

        "We're there, and we're talking about the tour, the album, it's almost over.  Then she turns to me and says, 'Have you heard from Lance lately?'  We're there to promote!  We're not there to discuss my boyfriend.  You think I'd ask her about her love life?"

        "What'd you say?"

        "Nothing.  Kevin made some crack about how I never stop talking to you, how I whip out the cell in between numbers."

        "Is that what you whip out?"

        "When I'm talking to you, it's all out."

        "I get asked about you, too."

        "You'd better.  You're with a Backstreet Boy now.  That's the big-time."

        "I like when they ask about you.  Joey always makes a point to complain about his friends dating the enemy, but it's good when they ask.  Except when that girl asked me if you really sixty-nine.  She's not old enough to know what that means!"

        "What'd you tell her?"

        "I asked her what that means."

        "Lance!"

        "I didn't know what to say!  She turned red and disappeared.  What was I supposed to do?"

        "Tell her what you do in bed with your man is nobody else's business.  That's real smooth, Lance.  You've really helped your reputation."

        "How old were you when you knew what sixty-nining was?"

        "How old were you when you first sixty-nined?" AJ countered.

        Lance choked.

        "I know you did it with women."

        "I'm not giving you names."

        "I didn't ask for names.  You're a gentleman.  I know I wasn't the first one you got in position with.  But I was your first double-suck."

        "That's what you call it?"

        "You can call it anything you want, the way you do it.  You give good head, Lance."

        "Thanks."

        "I miss that about you."

        "That all you miss?"

        "No."

        Lance's heart ached, deeply and without warning.  Caught off-guard by the sudden moment of poignancy, he was struck with the strength of his longing for AJ.

        "I love you."

        Oh, AJ.  Lance closed his eyes.  "I love you, too, AJ."

        "You look good tonight?"

        He smiled and opened his eyes.  "Yeah."

        "You going out?"

        "Yeah."

        "Save a dance for me."

        Oh...god...AJ.  A knock at his door.  "I...I have to go."

        "Give 'em hell."

        "You know me."

        "Later."

        "Bye."  He hung up the phone and counted to ten.  Straightening his shoulders, he met his gaze in the mirror.  "Give 'em hell," he told himself, and opened the door for Michel Danceny.