Secrets

Torn Pages, a slashfic in two parts

Rating: NC-17 for graphic male-male sex

Pairing: JC Chasez/Justin Timberlake and Lance Bass/Chris Kirkpatrick

Disclaimer: The young men who comprise *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 JC is tired; Chris is Satan; and Joey tries out for the NFL (or was that the WWF?).

Notice: There's a little more angst in here than I had anticipated.

Vanessa

"Torn Pages" Part One: Secrets

"Where are you going?" Joey asked, passing JC in the hallway of their latest hotel. They'd just arrived in their rooms, and post-show highs were wearing down to reveal everyone's true exhaustion.

"Forgot my Discman," JC said, heading for the elevator. "Hey, Joey," he called, turning back as he finger-punched the down button, "great show!"

"You don't gotta tell me, I was there!" Joey shouted back.

"Be quiet and let me sleep!" came Chris' voice from somewhere.

"Good night, Chris!" JC and Joey called. Chris' sarcastic reply was lost to JC as he stepped into the elevator. He leaned against the elevator wall and pushed at the button for the first floor, then rubbed at his eyes. Time to sleep, man, no question about it. He yawned, covering his mouth with the back of his hand automatically, watching the doors open.

He stepped out of the elevator and Bronson, one of the security guys, said, "Aren't you supposed to be in bed, Mr. Rock Star?"

"Forgot something. Oh, come on, you don't have to come with me," he said as Bronson fell into step beside him.

"Oh yes I do," Bronson said, and opened the hotel door. They walked across the parking lot together in the darkness. JC waved to the group of screaming fans, but he was just too bone-tired to sign autographs. He felt a prick of guilt for that, and decided to sign some on the way back from the bus. Bronson pushed open the door for him and he ducked onto the bus, walking back to his bunk. Wait, that was Justin's bunk. They'd all switched last night. No, that was Lance's, that was Justin's - - oh, forget it, where was his Discman? Right, Chris had borrowed it. But which was Chris' bunk? He was too tired to deal with this nonsense, people, give him a break.

He flipped on the little light above one of the bunks, maybe Joey's bunk, it didn't really matter to him anymore, and started his search. He found red socks, a toothbrush, a Backstreet Boys CD, Lance's watch, Joey's boxers - - ah! His Discman! Without headphones. What was the point of a Discman without headphones? He scrounged around a bit more and found his headphones on a bunk that must have been Justin's because it had Justin's journal on it.

Justin had a journal?

Well it said, right there on the inside cover, "Justin's Journal: Keep Out or I'll Kill You Dead with My Bare Hands! Yes, You!"

Which just made him have to open it and peek.

He flipped through a bit and found nothing interesting, really. He skimmed over several pages of random comments on their tour. The only thing he noticed was that a lot of pages had been torn out here and there. A lot. In the middle of sentences, even.

Weird.

He dropped the journal back on Justin's bunk, scooped up his Discman, plugged in his headphones, flipped off the light, and left the bus.

Two days later, as they were driving out of Germany, JC, Chris, and Lance were in the back of the bus. JC was bored. He hated being bored, because he had way too much energy to waste sitting around being bored, so he started a conversation. "Did you know that Justin has a journal?"

"A journal?" Lance asked. "You mean like a diary?"

"Justin's a girl?" Chris asked.

"Guys keep diaries," Lance told Chris.

"Do you have one?" Chris asked Lance.

"No," Lance said. "When did Justin start one?"

"I don't know."

"But he has one," Chris asked for confirmation.

"I saw it," JC said.

"You mean you read it," Lance said, disapproving but unable to keep back a smile.

JC shrugged and grinned. "Yeah."

"You read Justin's diary?" Chris asked.

"Be quiet," JC said. "Don't tell him!"

"What did it say?" Chris asked.

"Nothing much. Just stuff about the concerts, where we've been, stuff like that."

"That's it?" Chris asked. "What's the point of keeping a diary if you don't say anything interesting?"

"What's the point of keeping a diary if you rip out all of the pages?" JC asked.

"He rips out pages?" Lance asked.

"Yeah. Lots of them," JC said.

"You mean to use the paper for other stuff, or you mean pages he already wrote on and doesn't like?" Chris asked.

"Pages he already wrote on," JC said.

"You know what that means," Chris said.

"It means he doesn't like what he wrote," Lance said.

"It means he has a secret," Chris said.

"Justin doesn't have any secrets," Lance said.

"Like he'd tell us if he did?" Chris asked. "That's the point of secrets, not telling everyone about them."

"You think he tore out the pages because there's stuff on them... I don't get it," JC said.

"Look, you found the diary, you could have read it all," Chris said. "If he tears out the pages, then no one can read them."

"So what was on them?" JC asked.

"That's the secret," Chris said.

"No kidding," JC said.

"If Justin has a secret," Lance said, "we can't ask him about it."

"Who's asking?" Chris asked. "I'm going to sneak around behind his back."

"We can't," JC said.

"You did, why can't the rest of us?" Chris asked.

"But I didn't find anything. You might," JC said, "and that's not cool."

"Do we really think that it's any big deal?" Chris asked. "It's not like we're going to uncover Justin's secret drug habit or something. It's probably just a bunch of really bad poetry after breaking up with Britney. No big deal."

"True," Lance admitted.

"If he finds out he'll kill us," JC said.

"Okay. If I don't find anything by tomorrow, I'll give up. Twenty-four hours," Chris said. "Okay?"

"Okay," JC said.

"Do not ask me for help," Lance said.

"Good to know I can always count on you. I'll ask Joey for help," Chris said.

"Joey can't keep secrets," JC said. "He'll tell Justin what you're doing in the first ten minutes."

"He has a point," Lance told Chris.

"Then I'll do it alone," Chris said. "I'll be the Lone Ranger. And Tonto. And Silver. All by myself."

"Good luck," JC said, grinning.

Chris bided his time through the afternoon and evening. They drove into Austria, ran through their concert for the set-up, made an official appearance, did a radio bit, did a standard pre-show meet-and-greet, had their concert, and went to their hotel.

In the hotel, Chris waited ever-so-casually by Justin's room, fingers crossed. Justin came out of his room and went down the hallway. Chris saw JC come out of JC's room and made wild gestures to get JC's attention. JC took the not-at-all-subtle hint and nodded, then stopped Justin. Chris ducked into Justin's room, hoping that JC would keep Justin distracted.

Okay. Chris tackled the first suitcase he saw. Nothing he hadn't seen a million times already. Normal Justin stuff. Next suitcase. Okay, he'd never seen that pair of underwear before, wow holy cow, but there was nothing incriminating. Moving on: he unzippered Justin's carry-on bag.

Whoa. Make a mental note here.

He rummaged around some more but found nothing else. Then he unzippered the inside pockets one by one. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, jackpot! Folded up and shoved in a small inner pocket of Justin's carry-on bag, Chris found lined paper written over in Justin's familiar handwriting. Clearly it had been folded and refolded and read over more than once. Oh boy, gotta get out of here. He closed everything up, shoved the papers in his pocket, and disappeared.

Then he realized that if Justin went looking for the pages that night and didn't find them, the fit would hit the shan. Not good.

He knocked on JC's door.

JC opened the door, lounging against it half-asleep, half-dressed. "Yeah? Find his secret stash of Barry Manilow records?"

"Three things."

"Three what things?" JC rubbed his eyes.

"A sexy little pair of, I don't know, thong underwear? A G-string? Dental floss?"

"What?"

"That's what I said. Also, a half-used tube of lubricant."

"For what?"

"I don't know, probably to...giddy up, solo."

"Oh. What's the third thing? A blow-up doll?"

"Found some pages. You take them - - I don't want to be caught with them."

"You stole them?" JC asked in surprise as Chris shoved the crumped papers in his hand.

"Some light bedtime reading for you."

"What do they say?"

"I didn't read them. If they're juicy you have to tell me all about it tomorrow."

JC's fingers closed around the pages as Chris went off down the hallway. He closed and locked his door, turned off the overhead light, and dropped onto the bed. He switched on the bedside lamp and scooted around, getting under the covers, snuggling in comfortably.

He shouldn't read this stuff, it was private, it was Justin's, he had no business having it at all.

He should toss it.

He should give it back to Justin.

One page. He'd read one page. No more.

He unfolded the papers carefully, smoothing them out, purposely keeping his eyes from focusing on the letters. Then he let his gaze fall on the top of the first page.

"It's tearing up my heart when I'm with you, but when we are apart I feel it too, and no matter what I do I feel the pain, with or without you."

"Baby I don't understand just why we can't be lovers."

God, JC, I don't understand it either. What the FUCK is your problem?

Shit.

I didn't mean that. It's not his fault. It's not, it's not. Is it mine? It must be. All my fault.

His fault. His fault for being beautiful and creative and fun and beautiful and talented and sexy and beautiful and nice and so so so so so straight.

"Things are getting out of hand." Actually, JC, things are way too much in my hand. If I jerk off any more I'll break it.

"I am down on my knees." Yeah, god, don't I wish. Then you'll wanna sing that next line - "I can't take it anymore." I'd make it so good for you, JC, I would...

Yeah, but convenient me, I skipped the part about "If you want me girl let me know." If you want me GIRL.

"Don't misunderstand what I'm trying to tell you." Yeah, I understand. I get it. Next song.

"I just want to be with you." Hell, sounds good to me. Just skip the next word. "Girl." Make it "I just want to be with you, that's all I want to do." That is all I want. It's all I want.

God, JC, do you listen to yourself? You sound so sexy. "Girl you're turning me on." It's so perfect, so sexy, I just wish, I wish I were turning you on - - but you have to stick that stupid girl in there! Just slap me in the face with it.

"It's just what I want and I'm just what you need." You ARE just what I need. And I can be what you want, I'll give you everything you want. You can call me sugar baby darling whatever you want. Okay, maybe not, that would be sort of girly - - which is the whole problem, isn't it? I'm not a girl. I don't want to be a girl. But all you want is a girl.

Or a woman. Since you're all grown up and mature and adult now.

Right.

Hey, you can make me your baby any day, JC. Any day. Any night, too, I'm not picky.

I do want to drown in your love. Drown drown drown. Not that I'm suicidal. No way. I'm totally over that idea now.

Now.

"Pleasure and pain." I'm getting pretty much pain these days, mostly because I know that you'll never give me any pleasure. Oh, being your best friend is great, and we're always together, and you're wonderful, and I know that you like me, and I know that we're friends, and I get a lot from that, a lot more than you'll ever know, but I'll never get more.

Which sucks. Totally totally sucks.

"I gotta have you. Gonna love you day and night, yes I'll treat you right." I wish.

"Do you wanna be with me" - like you have to ask - "'cause I wanna be with you" - the hell you do - "sugar come and be with me" - if you let me come to be with you you can call me sugar, I don't care anymore - "come and be with me my baby" - you can call me baby, too. The jury's still out on "darling." Next song.

Even this song bothers me. I've lost my mind. What did Chris call this, the blatant self-promotion song? There's nothing at all love-song sappy about it, but here I am getting stupid and obsessive over things like "You gotta do what you feel, do what you like." Which is my line, so that's cool, it probably got stuck in my thoughts because of that. Wish I could do what I feel, do what I like. I'd do you.

Okay, now I'm officially sick. Next song.

Ah, one of the JC Songs. Are you even aware that you have a solo spot **at the very least** on **every single song** on this CD **and** on "No Strings Attached," too? You're lead all over every song. Which is actually pretty awesome, since you're a terrific singer and wicked-talented.

"In my dreams I'll make your wish come true." No, my dreams only come true in my dreams. I don't know what you dream about. Grammys and sex with women, probably. My dreams are much more interesting than that.

Great, I'm getting a hard-on here and now. You're messing with my whole body, not just my head anymore. Next song.

God must have spent a little more time on JC. Absolutely. No question about it. More than a little more, probably a LOT more. He had to take care of your voice, your creative energies, your basic talents, your intelligence and sense of humor and fun side, your beautiful hands, your sexiness and your gorgeous body, your eyes, and those cheekbones, God must have spent ages sculpting you the perfect cheekbones.

"Never thought that love could feel like this." Got it right there. I get some pretty cool lyrics, don't I? Yeah, love feels... It's not what I expected. Hurts like Hell. Scares me.

"How can it be that right here with me there's an angel? It's a miracle." Yeah, well, you're not exactly an angel. Miracle, I'll go with that, but you're no angel. I've known you for too long to believe that. Although some days you almost convince me, if you smile at me just right.

Okay, lots of sappy lyrics that are just way too depressing. Next song!

Okay, as soon as the stars shine, go ahead and make me yours. I won't stop you. Believe me.

"You got it, I want it, I'll do whatever it takes. You've got it, I need it, your love is what makes my heart break." I'll go with all of that.

"Let me tell you how I feel." No way. I'm not saying a word.

"I need your love" totally "girl" fuck you "give in to me" please do.

"You are in my dreams at night." All of them. Especially the sex ones. "Whatever I do you're always on my mind." It doesn't help that we're on tour, so we're together 24-7. "I can't wait until the day when you and me are one and the same." Nice grammar. Even I know that's wrong, and I'm not exactly well-educated. And yeah, I can wait, I can wait forever, it'll never happen. Next song.

"I need love." No shit. "You need love." You've got plenty, just look over this way. "All I want, all I need," yeah, pretty much.

Right, another JC-intensive song.

"I just want to tell you how I feel. I just want to have a love that's real. How can I stop this burning desire? I can see that you're the one for me. You're the only one I really need. I need a love that burns like a fire."

"All I want to do is give it a chance. Everybody needs a true romance. I would give anything to be with you. I will give you all the love you need if you only give your love to me. What would I do if I were without you?"

Maybe this song should be my own personal anthem. Next song, please.

"You're all I ever wanted. You're all I ever needed." True. True true true.

"I'm going crazy without you." Goes without saying.

"You're the one I want. You're the one I need." Yeah, still true. Pretty simple concept. Next song.

"The finest years I ever knew were all the years I had with you." Man, we've been together for how long now?

"And I would give everything I own, I'd give up my life my heart my home, I would give everything I own, just to have you back again." Not back again, just to have you, just to... Damn it, JC.

Damn me, I guess.

"And nobody else will ever know the part of me that can't let go." Nobody. And I can't let go. I've tried, I've tried, you have no idea.

"My love for you will always stay true." Yeah. Pretty stupid of me. I mean, I'm 19, it's not like I WANT to spend the next seventy years going through this. "There is no me without you." Which is just stupid and sad and pathetic. Is it even true? It has to be. If I didn't have you I wouldn't feel like this and I'd be a different person.

"Nobody can love you love you love you love you like I do." I wish. I wish I wish I wish. And you have no idea what it's like to know that it's true, in the reverse. Nobody can love you love you love you love you like I do, JC.

Next song.

Oh. The Official Masturbation Song.

"Now I toss and turn 'cause I'm without you. How I'm missing you so bad. Where was my head? Where was my heart? Now I cry alone in the dark. I lie awake. I drive myself crazy, drive myself crazy, thinking of you. ... I drive myself crazy wanting you the way that I do." Thank god it's Chris singing and not either of us right there, or it'd be ten times as bad for me.

"And now I'm left with all this pain. I've only got myself to blame."

Yeah. The Official Masturbation Song. And it's all true. Next song.

"Wherever I go, whatever I do, whenever my heart is crying out for you. Wherever I go, whatever I do, I'm crazy for you." Yeah.

"It's not easy to be alone." No, it's not, JC. "It's not easy to fall in love." Oh, it's really easy to fall in love. I fell in love with you fast and hard, and it was so easy. It's just hard, it's just hell, actually being in love. "Every night I just get down and pray that you'll come my way." Yeah. Then I jerk off six times.

Not six.

I would if I could.

"A little smile would light my life. A single touch would blow my mind." Yeah. Next song.

"Well it's not far down to paradise, at least it's not for me." Right now it's about three feet away in the form of one sexy gorgeous tenor. Next song.

"All I want to do is show you love." I do!

"I'm tired of all these lies." You have no idea.

JC shoved the pages away from himself, dropping them to the floor, snapping off the lamp quickly. In the darkness he rolled over, putting his back to the pages, closing his eyes tightly. There was more, much more; that was only the first entry. There were pages and pages more. He didn't want to read. He didn't want to know.

When JC awoke he knew. He remembered immediately. The guilt and fear and anger were there, present, waiting for him to open his eyes.

Guilt: He shouldn't have gone through Justin's journal, he shouldn't have read the ripped-out pages, he shouldn't have gone along with Chris's idea, as soon as he read the first few lines last night he should have stopped reading, he'd never guessed how Justin felt, how could he not have guessed how Justin felt.

Fear: What was he going to do now? What if Justin had noticed that the pages were missing? What if Justin found out that he knew? Did he really know what he knew?

Anger: Anger at himself for poking into Justin's personal business, anger at Chris for doing it too, anger at Justin for feeling like this, anger at Justin for feeling like this, how dare Justin do this to them?!

He showered and dressed quickly, pages burning in the pocket of his jeans. He wasn't a foot from his door before Chris accosted him, asking quietly with eyes full of anticipation, "So did you read them?"

"No." He'd never lied to Chris. Not once.

"You did." And that was why.

"I read the first few. I can't tell you."

Chris looked at him, assessing, growing concerned. "What's wrong? It's bad? JC, is something wrong with Justin?"

"No, no." I do want to drown in your love. Drown drown drown. Not that I'm suicidal. No way. I'm totally over that idea now. Now. "Pleasure and pain." I'm getting pretty much pain these days... "There's nothing wrong with him." Damn it, JC. Damn me, I guess. "He's fine." I'm tired of all these lies.

"JC?" Chris asked, past concern and into worry.

"And now I'm left with all this pain. I've only got myself to blame." "Where did you get them? We have to put them back," JC said, and he knew that he sounded frantic.

"JC. Talk to me. If Justin's in trouble-"

Hurts like Hell. Scares me. "He's fine! Just tell me where you got these so I can put them back."

"Where you got what?" Joey asked from behind him.

"Where'd you come from?" Chris asked.

"You stole Justin's stuff?" Joey asked. Joey sounded angry. JC turned to look. Yeah, Joey was angry. There went the eyebrows.

"JC told me to," Chris said quickly.

"I did not!" JC said. "You-"

Joey shoved Chris into the wall. Not violently, but making a point. "You stole Justin's stuff?"

"How do you know about it?" Chris asked.

"Something's wrong. I asked him about it. Something's missing, something important."

"He's upset?" JC asked hesitantly.

"He's throwing up. He looks like...bad." Joey pushed Chris again. "You stole it?"

"I borrowed it," Chris said. "I gave it to JC."

"Why?"

"I didn't want to get in trouble. I don't even know what it is."

"You don't know what it is?" Joey asked, confused.

"It's pages from his journal," JC said. "We didn't read them."

"You didn't?" Joey asked.

"Nope," Chris said.

"Either of you?" Joey insisted, looking from one to the other.

"Nope," JC said. "Here. Give them back to him." He pulled the crumped papers from his pocket and handed them over to Joey. He knew that Joey wouldn't read them. "Tell him we didn't read them."

Joey took the papers. "You'd better apologize or I'm kicking you both out of the group." Joey headed for the stairs.

"Shit," Chris said, sagging against the wall. "Justin's throwing up. JC, what did he write?"

"Nothing."

"I know you read it."

"Just the first few pages."

"Why'd you stop?"

JC shook his head and went to the elevator. When he stepped off in the lobby, he was stopped by one of the handlers, who said, "Go tell Justin that he'd better fix himself up because we are not taking him past those fans looking like shit."

"Where is he?" JC asked.

"Lance took him down the hall," she said, gesturing vaguely. "I'm serious, JC."

He nodded and went down the hallway. He really didn't want to see Justin. Not for another fifty years, at least. But he was worried, too. It must be bad.

Well, how would he feel if he'd written his heart and soul out and then realized that other people had read it all? He'd been the only one to read it, and just a bit of it, but Justin didn't know that. And Justin would hate that the most, maybe, that he specifically had read it. And he was guessing that Justin hadn't left the pages just lying around; they'd probably been hidden somewhere, so Justin had to know that they'd come looking and searching on purpose, which was a serious betrayal and now Justin hated them but that was okay because he hated Justin, too. But he didn't hate Justin. He just...feared Justin.

He was afraid of Justin?

Little Justin Timberlake?

Okay, not so little anymore. Taller than he was, these days, especially with that extra hair.

He smiled.

And walked into the dining room.

And frowned.

Anger, fear, and guilt all fell to the wayside, forgotten, as concern swept into JC. He came forward quickly, kneeling in front of Justin.

Justin was sitting on one of the dining room chairs, pulled away from the table, Joey sitting on the table, Lance standing beside Justin. Justin looked awful. Too too pale. Dark circles under blood-shot eyes. Hair ragged.

JC knelt, taking one of Justin's slender hands in his, looking up into Justin's face, saying one of the most inane things ever: "Justin, what's wrong?"

But maybe one of the best things ever. Maybe the best thing that he possibly could have said under those circumstances, in that moment.

Justin stared at him for one second before Justin's face crumped and the tears started. JC leaned up and hugged Justin, who held onto him, sobbing.

"I was wondering why he wasn't crying," Joey said.

"He's making up for it now," Lance said.

JC patted Justin's back, holding on, resting his chin on Justin's shoulder. "It's okay."

Chris's voice: "So this is where the party is."

"It's Justin's party and he'll cry if he wants to," Lance said.

"Funny," Joey said.

"The rest of the people would like to leave," Chris said. "If you wondered."

"Can't they go without us?" Joey asked.

JC let go of Justin, who sat back and sniffled. Joey snagged a cloth napkin from a place setting and handed it over; Justin muttered a quiet, embarrassed "Thanks" and wiped his face.

"Is it time for my humble and heartfelt apology?" Chris asked.

JC stood and tugged up Justin as well. "Come on, go comb your hair or our fans won't recognize you. I'll go sign some autographs so at least one of us looks halfway interested in work today."

"I'll come with you," Joey said. "Justin, you okay?"

"Yeah," Justin said, not looking at anybody.

"Come on," Chris said, "let's go wash that pretty face."

JC left quickly then, missing the way Justin's eyes flickered after him hesitantly. He went outside with Joey to where the fans were being held in the parking lot behind roadblocks. As he autographed and smiled and shook hands his anger, fear, and guilt returned in full force. He was grateful when he was herded onto the bus and he could stop being cheerful and interested.

Of course, when he stepped onto the bus, he realized that he was going to be in close quarters with Justin for the next few hours. Days. Weeks. Months.

Years.

Because even when this tour ended, there would be more albums, more tours, more being with Justin day in and day out into the future.

Unless he left the band.

No. That was not an option. That was not acceptable. He would not leave *NSYNC.

"Justin's sleeping," Lance said to him quietly as he walked onto the bus. He nodded and went to his own bunk, laid down, drew the curtain, rolled over to face the wall, and closed his eyes.

"JC. JC. Wake up or I'll pour water on you."

He rolled over and looked at Lance. "What?"

"We're...I don't know where we are, actually, but we're here."

"That's great." He half-jumped, half-fell from his bunk. "I'm starving. What are we doing?"

"Interview."

"Right."

"They want us to do most of the talking."

"Us who?"

"Us everybody who's not Justin. He looks terrible, and no make-up job's going to cover it."

JC nodded and followed Lance into the sunshine. He saw for himself that Lance was right. Justin looked awful. Worse now than back in the hotel. He was careful not to make eye contact.

The interview went well; it was pretty much like every other interview. Dressed and combed and made up, Justin looked great. JC was sure that no one would notice anything wrong. But Justin's smiles weren't as big as they usually were, and Justin's eyes weren't as bright as they usually were, and the shine was gone. Justin was golden, always had been, but now he seemed dull.

Since JC had helped Justin at the hotel, he knew that the others - - Chris, Joey, Lance - - were waiting for him to fix Justin again. He wasn't going to do it. He wasn't going to help. He couldn't and he wouldn't. This was Justin's problem, not his.

It was midnight and JC wasn't even sure what town this was and they were running through their show for the next night and he heard the music for "Tearin' up My Heart" and he started his solo, "Baby I don't understand just why we can't be lovers" and he glanced over and Justin met his eyes and Justin just sort of froze. And he knew and Justin knew that he knew and he knew that Justin knew that he knew and Justin knew that he knew that Justin knew that he knew and right then and there, before his very eyes, something in Justin broke.

Justin's heart, maybe.

Justin's trust.

Justin's hope.

Whatever it was, it snapped, it shattered, and he turned away and kept singing.

When they were heading for the limo, he saw Justin and Chris having a quick, intimate discussion. Chris's eyes glanced over at him; Justin turned to see what Chris was looking at, and JC turned away and got into the backseat.

"I didn't," Chris said. "I swear to God and you I didn't."

Justin looked at him, looked into his eyes, hard.

"Justin, tell me what's going on." Something was wrong, seriously wrong. Justin looked like someone who'd been damaged so bad nothing else could hurt anymore. That was not the way he'd ever expected Justin to look. He was worried now, more every time he looked at Justin.

"You didn't read any of it. And JC didn't tell you any of it."

"I didn't read any. JC said he read the first few pages but then he stopped, and he didn't tell me anything. I swear it."

"Okay. Sorry."

"Justin, what's going on? You're freaking me out here."

Justin gave him a quick hug. "Don't worry about it."

"Oh, right. Good. I'll do that."

Justin almost smiled.

The limo ride was quiet. Quite unusually quiet. JC stared out the window at nothing. Justin looked at his knees. Chris sat between them exchanging glances with Joey and Lance, who looked as baffled as he was.

When the limo stopped, Chris put his hand on JC's arm to keep JC from leaving. "Whatever is going on," and he looked to Justin and back to JC, "it stays in here. You don't act like prima donnas and you don't let anybody, not the press and especially not the fans, know that anything is wrong."

"Absolutely," Lance said, looking at them.

"You could talk to us," Joey said.

"Everything's fine," JC said, and got out of the limo.

"I'm going to hit him," Joey said.

"Me first," Chris said, following JC.

Chris's commands were followed. JC was nothing if not a professional. He smiled and greeted and signed autographs as he always had. They had a concert the following night, and he was as entertaining as usual during the standard pre-show meet-and-greet.

It was SOP for the performers to hug before each show. Some evenings it seemed almost perfunctory, but inside it meant something, and they always went through it. That night when JC hugged Chris, Joey, and Lance, he could feel them showing their support. It said a lot for their group and individual relationships that they were being supportive when they had no idea what was wrong. Then he turned around from hugging the bassist and Justin was turning around and that was the briefest, barest hug on the face of the earth.

"No," Lance said.

"Do it again," Chris said.

"Guys," JC said.

Everyone was looking at them.

"Hug him again," Lance said. "We're not going out there until you do."

JC gave Justin a squeeze. Justin was built like he was - - long limbs, slender body, tight muscles. There wasn't a lot of Justin to hug, in purely spatial terms. He held on a little longer this time, then stepped back and asked Lance, "Okay?"

Lance smiled. "Okay. Let's go."

In the performance, onstage, in the rhythm and the motion, in the sound and the crowd, JC forgot it all, lost it all, was in the moment. Everything was too fast and too wild and too much fun, and he just looked over at Justin and smiled, and Justin smiled right back at him, and they were connected just like that.

After the show, they raced to the limo and collapsed, exhausted and sweaty and oddly high-strung, the regular post-show combination.

"Must have food," Joey said.

"Yes," Chris agreed emphatically.

"What's in your ears?" Lance asked.

"What?" JC asked.

"I have my voice, my part," Chris said.

"I have the whole song," Joey said, "the CD version."

"Oh," JC said. "I just have my part. Why?"

"I keep using just my voice, but I don't like it," Lance said. "I was wondering what you guys have. Justin, what do you use?"

"I don't like just my voice either," Justin said. "There's no balance."

"So what do you use?" Joey asked.

"My part and JC's."

A week passed. Then another.

Chris sat on the stage and watched Justin talking to Joey. No, that wasn't Justin, that was Not-Justin. It looked like Justin, it walked and talked like Justin, but it wasn't Justin. It dressed and danced and sang like Justin. It wasn't Justin. It was Not-Justin. Not-Justin had been around a lot lately. Twenty-four hours a day for two weeks now. Chris, Joey, and Lance had discussed Not-Justin and decided that the guy had to go. They infinitely preferred Real-Justin. Justin-Justin. The fun one. The one who laughed and played basketball. The one who hung out with them and teased them. The one who lived and loved. Not-Justin was quiet. And still. And too closed off even to show pain. When Justin-Justin was hurt, the pain was exposed and raw, and they could help. Not-Justin didn't share anything, didn't expose anything.

Chris, Joey, and Lance weren't licensed therapists, but they knew that Not-Justin was around because of JC. Something was going on between Justin and JC. They had no idea what it was. JC was playing it cool these days, acting like everything was fun and happy, but obviously nothing was cool, because JC was completely ignoring Not-Justin. Completely. Which was insane, because JC and Justin went back years together, had been friends for a long time, and nothing came between them.

Chris sighed and got up to walk over to Lance. "How long do we let this go on before we smack their heads together?"

"Joey says we should pretend we're on a sitcom and lock them in a closet together until they make up."

"Sounds good."

"Tonight?"

Chris grinned. "Tonight."

"You know, you look like Satan."

"I am."

Chris, Joey, and Lance conferred. Lance distracted JC downstairs in the hotel lobby. Chris went upstairs with Justin and swiped Justin's door key. Then, in a perfectly (and closely) timed orchestration, as soon as Justin went into the shower Chris and Joey moved JC's bags into Justin's room; seconds later, as Lance and JC stepped from the elevator, Chris passed the key over to Lance. Then Lance, who'd been given the door keys originally, gave Justin's to JC and disappeared. JC went into "his" room; he realized that the room was occupied and turned to leave but his three dear friends yanked the door shut and jammed a key card in the slot.

Justin's room. There beside his suitcase were Justin's things. And the shower was running.

JC decided that as soon as Justin came out he'd start his killing spree. No, why wait? He could reenact the infamous shower scene from Psycho. If he only had a knife... JC walked to the bathroom.

The door was open. That only made sense; Justin probably thought that he was alone. The room was warm and humid and smelled like Justin's shampoo.

JC opened his mouth to speak when he heard a shocked gasp. Then a shivery kind of moan. Followed by his name. More sweet sweet gasps, more shuddering moans, and his name again.

Shower. Naked. Masturbation. Justin was getting off in the shower. Right now right here. Two feet from him.

"Oh god, JC," and Justin came. JC heard it, smelled it, knew it, knew it.

Turned. Ran. Slammed into the door. "Let me out! Let me out let me out you motherfuckers let me out of here NOW!" He was shouting and pounding the door and assaulting the doorknob and screaming and the door flew open and he burst past his friends and tore off down the hallway.

Joey tackled him from behind, bringing him down to the carpet. "JC! Stop it - - JC!" He was pinned on his back. "You weigh fifty pounds, man, I can drag you back there myself if I want. What's your problem?"

"Wow, Joey, way to go right out of Monday Night Football," Chris said. "Or was that the WWF? Hey, JC, what's up?"

He wasn't going to say anything. His voice was broken.

"Either you go back in there or you talk to us," Joey said.

"At least we're giving you a choice," Chris said.

"You can go in there and kill each other, talk, make up, ignore each other, but you're not coming out again until we let you out in the morning," Joey said.

"Please don't kill each other. It would ruin Lance's career," Chris said.

"Are you going to talk to us or go back to Justin?" Joey asked.

"Hey, guys," Lance said, joining them.

"How's Justin? What happened?" Chris asked.

"I don't know what happened, but Justin just got into bed naked and soaking wet. His hair's going to be crazy in the morning and he's probably ruining the sheets. He says he's fine."

"Oh, that sounds fine, taking a shower and going to bed but skipping the whole drying off part," Chris said. "He's not bruised or crying or anything?"

"No," Lance said. "Just wet and quiet."

"You want to deal with us or the wet and quiet guy?" Chris asked JC.

"Let me up," JC said.

"Don't even think about taking off," Joey said, and stood. Lance pulled up JC, who rubbed his elbow and frowned at Joey. Joey didn't look too apologetic. JC rolled his shoulder and walked back the way he'd come. They followed. He went into Justin's room and closed the door in their faces. There on the bed, under a mound of bedclothes, was a form, and he saw, peeking from the top, a mass of wet curls. "You asleep?"

"No." Sour and muffled.

"They're not letting me out of here until tomorrow morning."

"Sleep on the floor."

"Like you don't want me in the bed with you?" he snapped.

The pillow slammed into his face before his brain registered that it was coming. He caught it before it hit the floor and glared across the room at Justin, who was sitting up in the bed and returning the glare with hatred and disgust equal to his. He threw the pillow right back at Justin, who caught it deftly. "My room, my bed, you sleep on the floor," Justin said.

"It's my room, too."

"Then it's your floor."

JC wanted to hit something. Instead, he crouched and yanked open his suitcase. He went into the bathroom, showered, peed, and brushed his teeth. In shorts and a tank top, he walked over to the bed. "There's room for all five of us in there. Scoot."

"I'm not scooting anywhere. You can drag your fat butt down the hall to another room."

"They won't let me out until the morning."

"Sleep standing up." Justin yawned and burrowed in comfortably. JC pulled Justin's hair and crawled over Justin rudely, being sure to put his knees in uncomfortable places, then slid under the warm covers. Justin rolled over, pulled the pillow out from under his head, and hit him in the face with it. He stuffed it under his head and turned his back to Justin.

JC had shared a room, even a bed, with Justin more times than he could remember. He'd never really thought twice about it. And this was still Justin, after all. He closed his eyes and got comfortable. As comfortable as he could get when the sheets were wet.

"JC?"

"I'm asleep."

"Good."

"Why?"

"Then you won't notice if I do this." Justin pinched his arm.

"Jerk."

"Go to sleep."

"JC?"

"I'm not telling you a bedtime story."

Warm fingertips brushed down his naked bicep. "Thank you."

"I'm sleeping."

"Good night."

"For what?"

"What?"

"Thank you for what?"

"Go to sleep." Quick and featherlight, lips brushed over his shoulder; then Justin rolled over, the lamp clicked off, and there was darkness.

When JC awakened he was alone in the bed, his elbow hurt, and his cock was hard. Sitting up, he stretched a little.

Justin sat on the bed, dressed and ready to go. "The door's stuck. I think they forgot about us."

"They're probably punishing us."

"Yeah." Justin's fingers toyed with the bracelet on JC's wrist. "Still hate me?"

"No."

"Is it okay if I still hate you?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't know you were in here. Last night."

"I know. You can look me in the eye if you want."

Justin's gaze met his. "I'm used to looking everywhere but at you lately."

"Me too."

"I missed you."

"Me too."

Justin's fingers strayed down and laced through JC's. "Still friends?"

"Always. I love you, Justin."

"Yeah. I love you, too. Just...a whole lot more and in lots more ways."

JC squeezed Justin's hand. "Now that we've had our touching reunion, can I go to the bathroom?"

"One more thing."

"Great. What?"

"I need to know what you read. Which pages."

JC hesitated. Reluctantly he admitted, "I guess you do need to know. And then maybe you'll realize that I've been walking around with the wrong idea this whole time. I read the first pages, the ones where...were you listening to our CD the whole way through and taking notes on it?"

Justin paled a little, then reddened. "Yeah. You have the right idea."

"So was that a good section for me to read or a bad one?"

"Probably a good one. Some of the others are...a lot racier."

"Sex."

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Justin. I'm sorry. That I went through your stuff. Betrayed your trust. Hurt you. I was wrong."

"Yeah. I don't know, at least now you know."

"I'm glad I know. I think. Sometimes. I'm glad that I know. I just wish that it weren't true."

"You want it to be the way it was before. When I was just your friend."

"Yeah."

"Me too. Go to the bathroom. I'm going to see if we can get out of here."

"Did you take notes on 'No Strings Attached?'"

"You do not want to read those."

A few hours later, Chris, Joey, and Lance watched JC and Justin sitting together on the sofa in the back of the bus watching TV. Chris let the curtain fall and turned to the others. "Pretty cool."

"Justin's back," Joey said. "And JC."

"Maybe now things can return to normal," Lance said.

"Well, not entirely," Chris said.

Lance smiled. "No."

"Right," Joey said. "You're going to tell them, aren't you?"

"Now that they're not preoccupied with their own drama, we should," Chris said.

"Let's wait another day," Lance said. "I want to make sure this isn't one of those 'calm before the storm' things."

"Run for cover," Chris sighed. "It better not be."

That evening before their show, when Justin gave JC a quick hug, JC gave Justin's cheek a super-fast peck. Justin grinned at him.

Witnessing that exchange, Chris turned to Lance with a smile. "No," Lance said firmly. "Don't speculate."

"It makes sense," Chris said.

"No it doesn't," Lance said.

"It doesn't?"

"You've started enough trouble already."

"Okay, okay. You don't think-"

"No!"

The hotel hallways were dim. Guests slumbered. A door opened carefully and closed almost silently as a male form stepped from his room. He crept across the hallway and gave a muted tapping. The door opened for him; he entered and the door closed, locked.

"Are you sure that you want to do this?"

"You promised we could."

"We can wait."

"You promised."

Quiet chuckle. "Okay. Did you get the-"

"Right here. Don't leave home without it."

"Are you sure?" He looked searchingly into soft brown eyes.

"I'm sure." One sweet deep kiss and they sank back to the bed.

When the sun rose, long, thick, black lashes lifted over dark brown eyes. "Wow."

Lance chuckled, propped on one elbow, running his fingers over the hair on Chris's chest. "Thanks."

Chris laughed, too, and met Lance's green eyes. "Hi."

"Hi."

"So can we do that again?"

"If you want."

"Oh, let me think about it."

Lance smiled and kissed him. "We really need to tell Justin and JC."

"You think they'll be cool?"

"I know they will."

"'Cause, hey, you're legal now. If what we just did were legal. Which it's not. But if it were, you'd be old enough to do it."

"You're not a cradle robber or anything," Lance agreed with another smile.

"Yeah."

"You don't sound convinced. I'm twenty-one now, I can do whatever I want."

"I'm twenty-nine."

"I know. We just had your birthday party. It was fun."

"You don't think I'm too old for you?"

"I'm very mature. And you're immature. So it works."

"Yeah."

"There's something else, too."

"What?"

Lance slid down a bit and swung himself on all fours over Chris. "I'm in love with you, and you're in love with me, and we're going to have sex now."

"Oh. That's good," Chris said, smiling suddenly. "I'm convinced."

"Good." Lance kissed him until he couldn't breathe. When Lance finally let him up for air, it was only to say, "Do you want to make love to me?"

"Yeah," he gasped before Lance took possession again.

Half an hour later, Justin jogged down the hallway. "Hey," he said to Joey, "where's Lance? Chris?"

"What?" Joey asked, to buy time.

"You know, the blonde bass guy and the short dark-haired guy with the goatee? Have you seen them anywhere?"

"Ask JC," Joey suggested.

"He's trying to stall everybody else so no one notices we're missing two of our five people. Two out of five, that's not something we can cover up by singing louder."

"Check downstairs. I'll check up here."

"You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Justin frowned. "I don't know."

Joey waited until Justin had gotten on the elevator, then turned quickly and knocked on Lance's door. "Hey, guys, we've gotta go."

"Five more minutes," Chris called.

"Now!" Joey ordered, trying to be firm about it but quiet at the same time.

"Ten more minutes," Chris said.

"Now!" Joey shouted.

When Chris and Lance scurried onto the bus ten minutes later, JC applauded and Justin whistled. "Where've you been?" JC asked.

"Out," Chris said.

"Out," Lance agreed.

"Out where?" Justin asked.

"Can't say," Chris said. "It's a secret."

"Yeah," Lance said. "Big secret."

"Big secret," JC repeated. "Mm. Okay." He reached over and two slim fingers tugged at Lance's shirt collar. "Big secret that gave you a big love bite."

"It's just a bruise," Lance said, flushing, moving away quickly. "I fell. In the shower. Slippery tub."

"You weren't...like..." Justin looked from Lance to Chris and back to Lance. "You know we don't..."

"We don't?" Chris asked, just to distract Justin, not really knowing what Justin meant. "I thought we did."

"What?" Joey asked, honestly lost.

"We agreed," Justin said.

"Oh," Chris said, understanding. "No, we didn't."

"What?" Joey asked.

"Groupies," JC told Joey.

"If you weren't with fans, then who?" Justin asked. "You fell desperately in love with the room service girl?"

"Room service girl? I got some guy," JC said. "He was like fifty and he only had one eye."

"What?" Justin asked.

"Seriously," JC said. "Why do I get the middle-aged guys and Lance gets pretty girls?"

"It wasn't a pretty girl," Lance said.

"Not pretty or not a girl?" JC asked.

"I thought it was a shower," Joey said.

"What is it with you people and showers?" JC asked. He laughed when Justin turned red.

"Well?" Chris asked Lance. "Not pretty or not a girl?"

"Very pretty," Lance said. "Absolutely gorgeous."

"Good," Chris said.

"Are you going to stop?" Justin asked JC.

"Sorry," JC said, holding back his laughter. "What were we talking about?"

"Lance and his gorgeous bathtub," Justin said.

"What about you?" JC asked Chris.

"I got the one-eyed guy," Chris said. "Not my type."

"I give up," Justin said. "I'm going to go play Playstation. You all have a nice day."

As soon as JC followed Justin, Joey said quietly, urgently to Chris and Lance, "You're supposed to tell them."

"Did you hear what he said?" Chris asked.

"What?" Lance asked.

"Lance thinks I'm gorgeous," Chris told Joey.

"Chris, I think you're gorgeous," Joey said. "That's not the point. You're supposed to tell Justin and JC."

"You think I'm gorgeous?" Chris asked.

Joey flicked Chris between the eyes. "Tell them."

Chris shook his head quickly, startled. Lance said, "We don't know how."

"You told me," Joey said.

"What if we just don't tell them?" Chris asked. "What if we just let them know?"

"How?" Joey asked. "This is a bad idea already."

"They could walk in on us kissing or something."

"Oh, good, traumatize them," Joey said.

"They won't be traumatized!" Chris objected, and flicked Joey between the eyes.

"You really think it's better to show and not tell?" Lance asked. "I think that we should tell them."

"Would you be traumatized?" Chris asked Joey.

"Seeing you kiss?" Joey asked. "No. It'd be...weird. I've never...seen that. Two guys. My best friends. In front of me."

"Are you okay with this?" Lance asked, concerned.

"Hey, I'm cool," Joey said. "I'm happy for you. You're two of my four favorite people in the world ever."

"Great. Now all we have to do is set up Justin and JC," Chris said.

"Don't start," Lance warned.

"Come on," Chris said, "something's going on with them."

"No way," Joey said.

"Five bucks," Chris said.

"Ten bucks," Joey said.

"No no no," Lance ordered. "Stay out of it."

"So you're like...not a virgin anymore," Joey said.

"Oh god," Chris said.

Lance turned red. "No, I'm not. A virgin. Anymore."

"Just stamp the mark of the devil on my forehead and let me go on my way," Chris said, raising his hands and closing his eyes.

"Okay. Why?" Justin asked, coming from the back of the bus.

Chris kept his eyes closed. Lance said, "It's okay. Go back to Playstation."

"Okay." Justin left again with sodas. Chris sat on the floor of the bus in the aisle and buried his face in his hands. Lance crouched behind Chris and reached forward to cup Chris's chin in one hand, pulling back Chris's head. Chris sighed and looked up into pretty green eyes.

"We have to tell them."

"Tomorrow?" Chris pled.

Lance nodded, offering a small smile. "Tomorrow." He sat comfortably behind Chris and raised his knees, pulling Chris back into the vee of his thighs, Chris's back to his chest. One hand rested on Chris's chest familiarly. "I'll let you tell them."

"But you'll be there," Chris said. "And you," he told Joey.

"Is this alone time?" Joey asked.

"No," Chris said, "this is Lance needs to get some sleep and you and I are going to go irritate Justin and JC time."

"Sounds good," Joey said. "But to do that, you're going to have to let go of each other."

"That's no fun," Chris said.

"I'll go distract Justin and JC, you try to separate," Joey said, and left them.

Chris sighed and leaned against Lance. "Gotta get up now."

"I'm comfortable here," Lance said, rubbing over his chest lazily with one hand.

"Mom, he's touching me," Chris whined.

Lance chuckled and let his hand drift lower. Chris let out a soft soft moan and arched slightly. "Like that?" Lance asked in a low murmur.

"Oh, dirty thought to file for later," Chris said. "Lance's voice is totally made for porn."

"It is not," Lance said, scandalized.

"Totally," Chris said. "Hey."

"Hey what?"

"You stopped touching me."

"You're being bad."

"You started it," Chris accused, twisting to look at Lance. "Oh. Wow. That's nice."

"Don't - oh - do that," Lance moaned. "Stop moving."

"I didn't know you were hard."

"I wasn't. Holy - - that's not helping!"

"It's helping me," Chris said, and continued to rub Lance gently while he cupped Lance's nape in his other hand and brought Lance's lips closer for a kiss.

"Woah!" JC exclaimed.

"Help! Help! I've gone blind!" Justin shouted.

"Oh my god," Chris whispered, closing his eyes.

"Please let go," Lance whispered back to him.

"Shit." Chris backed up fast, then lept to stand, facing the others. JC was first, wide-eyed; Justin was next, two hands clapped over his eyes; Joey was behind them, smirking. Smirking! "You!" Chris accused.

"Me what?" Joey asked. "I just work here."

"You knew?" JC asked Joey, shocked.

"Yeah," Joey said.

"How long has this been going on?" JC asked.

"Tuesday," Lance said.

"Tues-"

"The one before that," Lance said, getting to his feet.

"That's almost - - two weeks?!" JC demanded. "You didn't tell us? You didn't say anything?"

"No, the Tuesday before that, over two weeks," Joey corrected, not wanting Lance to escape on a technicality.

"You were busy hating Justin," Chris said. "You had other things on your mind."

"And they weren't...you know...all this time," Joey said. "They didn't even start kissing until-"

"Don't even," Chris ordered Joey.

"-and they didn't really...you know...until last night," Joey added.

Justin, eyes squeezed tightly shut, clapped his hands over his ears, and sat on the floor.

"The...gorgeous attack shower...was you?" JC asked Chris. "You two...made...love?"

"They're in love," Joey explained. "It's very touching. You should write a song for them."

"I will," JC said, and stepped forward, and squeezed Chris, hard. "This is so great! I love you guys!" He embraced Lance.

"He's taking this well," Chris told Lance, almost alarmed.

"So you really..." JC looked at them again. Lance watched JC's eyes soften with awe. Chris turned red. "Wow," JC said.

"Justin?" Lance asked.

Joey toed Justin's side with his sneaker. "Hey. Curly. You okay?"

Justin rose gracefully. It was a beautiful sight, as his slender young form unfolded from a tight crouch to full height. He looked them over, all four of them, then said to Lance. "You're in love? With each other?"

"Yes," Lance said.

He nodded. "Good." Then he turned and pushed past Joey and went to the back of the bus. Lance put a quick restraining hand on Chris's arm; Joey frowned in concern and followed Justin.

"It's not about us," Lance told Chris.

"He hates us," Chris said.

Lance shook his head. "No."

"Then how do you explain that-"

Lance's chin lifted in the direction of JC's back. Chris frowned, eyes narrowing. Lance gently removed his hand.

Justin returned shortly, and embraced Lance then Chris with a quiet sniffle. "Happy for you guys."

"You're okay with the gay thing?" Chris asked. "And the bi thing? And the thing where your best friends and brothers and co-workers are in love and probably will do weird kissing stuff in front of you?"

"I'm okay with all of that," Justin said. "I wish you'd told me. I can't believe you're... I'm glad it's you two. I trust you to take care of each other, you know?"

"No harm shall come to him," Chris promised.

"We wanted to tell you," Lance said, "once we figured it out, but we weren't sure how to say it."

"That's Lance's way of hinting that if you have something to tell us, we understand," Chris said.

"I was trying to be subtle," Lance said.

"If you have any secrets," Chris said, "anything you feel like getting off your chest... Anything..."

"Chris thinks you're gay," Joey said.

"Would you stop popping up out of nowhere and - - next time you have a whole huge big secret I'm printing it on a billboard!" Chris said to Joey. "I never said he was gay." He hesitated. "Bi, maybe."

"Does everybody know?" Justin asked, nervous, glancing to Lance.

"Know what?" Lance asked gently.

"That I'm..." Justin licked his soft lips. "In love with JC."

Chris clutched at Lance's hand for support. Joey almost fell. JC crossed his arms over his chest, watching the floor.

"I'm in love with JC," Justin said again.

"Group hug," Chris said, letting go of Lance's hand, and wrapped his arms around Justin. Lance and Joey joined in next, then JC.

"Nobody grope me," Joey said. "Some of us are still straight."

"Two out of five, not bad," Chris said. "We'll convert you yet."

It was three a.m.; the five of them were in Justin's hotel room, wrapped in blankets from their separate rooms and huddled on Justin's wide soft bed. JC was asleep; Joey was drinking hot chocolate; Chris was drawing a dragon on his naked calf; Lance was ignoring Chris. Justin said, "You have to tell me how it started. What did I miss? You just looked up one day and gazed meaningfully into each other's eyes and that was it? Have you been harboring some secret love since you met?"

"It was a physical thing," Chris said. "I wanted his body."

"You did not," Lance said. Chris snorted. "Okay, you did," Lance admitted. "You do."

"You bet I do," Chris said to his knee with a wicked grin.

"I had to start it," Lance told Justin, ignoring Chris again. "He still has this problem with the age difference."

"Eight years," Justin said.

"Thanks," Chris said. "I feel better now."

"We know he can do math," Joey said. "That's something." Justin poked his foot in retaliation and he grinned.

"You had to start what?" Justin asked Lance, trying to prompt the rest of the story.

"That was later," Chris said. "We're going out of order."

"At least I'm not outright lying about it," Lance said.

"So it's not a physical thing?" Chris asked.

"Looked pretty physical to me," Justin offered.

"I thought you were blind," Chris said.

"You don't forget something like that," Justin said. "My mind tried to block out the whole horrible event, but my eyeballs are permanently scarred with the image."

"It wasn't that bad," Joey said.

"I was surprised," Justin said. "I never expected to see Chris...touching...Lance...like that. Plus the whole...kissing thing. No, don't get all weird and offended or embarrassed or whatever. It's cool. Now that I know, now that I'm informed and you're in love, it's all good. I just wasn't prepared for it. You go ahead and make kissy-face all you want."

"We don't want you to be uncomfortable," Lance said.

"Ha. Couple talk. You're a we now," Justin said. "That's pretty cool."

"Nobody's uncomfortable," Joey said. "As long as it's a love thing to go with the physical thing."

"Absolutely," Chris said. "Lance is totally in love with me." Joey smacked him in the head. "And I'm totally in love with Lance," he added.

"So tell me the grand tale of your romance," Justin ordered.

"Once upon a time," Lance said, "there was this gorgeous guy."

"A short guy with little feet or a blonde guy who can't play basketball?" Joey asked.

"I can play basketball," Lance said. "Just really badly," he added, grinning.

"Are you guys going to be sleeping together every night?" Justin asked.

"Woah," Lance said.

"So not your business," Chris said. "Yeah, we are."

"Every night?" Lance asked.

"You have a problem with that?" Chris asked Lance.

"No," Lance said, "I was just asking. Can I tell the story now?"

"It's not looking good so far," Chris said.

"Once upon a time there was a guy who fell in love with one of his best friends and his best friend fell in love back and they made love and now they're together," Lance said in one breath. "Okay?"

"I'm a little confused about the imagery," Chris said. "The detail was so rich that I got caught up in the-"

"Good night," Lance said. "Good night," he told Justin. "Good night," he told Joey. "Good night," he told JC.

"Night," Joey said.

"You're leaving?" Chris asked Lance.

"Yep." Lance crawled over JC and left the bed, left the room.

"Gotta go," Chris said quickly, and ran after Lance.

"Me too," Joey said. "Not for that reason. You want me to drag out JC?"

"Let him sleep," Justin said.

"Later." Joey left, closing the door.

Justin ran his hand through his mass of curls and looked at JC. JC. Asleep. Beautiful. Stomach down, face turned in his direction, in just a tank top and shorts under the blanket. JC needed rest. They all did. They were zombies by now, running on adrenaline and two-hour naps. He wouldn't disturb JC. He'd just...just...

-no no no no no no no-

He'd just...touch.

-no! no! no! no!-

His fingers tugged down the top edge of the blanket. Tugged it down just a little. Enough to expose one shoulder. Not the shoulder he'd kissed. The other. And couldn't he kiss this one, too? He loved them both equally. Just one kiss. JC would never know.

Like that made it any better, emotionally or morally.

One kiss.

He leaned in, inhaled gently, closed his eyes, and brushed his lips over JC's shoulder. Opened his eyes. And his hand, his fingers, grazed one exquisitely sculpted cheekbone.

God, what was it with these cheekbones? JC was so fucking gorgeous it was inhuman.

Those lips, soft and pink and relaxed. Inviting.

Seeing invitation where, to any sane person, none was given. Now he was thinking like a rapist or something. He needed to get a grip. Get a grip, Justin. Get a grip. Get a-

He backed up superfast, breath catching, heart pounding, as JC shifted and frowned and twisted and rolled, and then the blanket was loose and half-pushed away and JC was lying face-up.

He waited without moving, without breathing, but JC did not awaken.

Holy cow that had been close.

And, just to prove that he'd never ever learn, Justin's brain started to suggest naughty things again. Naughty things disguised as good intentions. Like JC was all twisted in the blanket, and seemed unhappy and uncomfortable, so maybe he should just pull the blanket away, like a good friend.

So he did, slowly and cautiously, inch by inch. He eased the blanket off to one side.

And JC was there, exposed, on his back, one hand on the mattress, one hand on his stomach, in shorts and a rucked-up tank top, gorgeous flat tight abdomen exposed, long limbs available for viewing, and...and...and...and Justin's eyes were staring, gaze trapped, mouth watering. Because there was no denying that, no not seeing it, no mistaking what it was.

JC was hard.

JC...JC...J... Justin's heart was pounding all over again for a whole new reason.

He'd...before...not... Once before, long ago, he'd seen JC naked. So he'd seen JC's cock. But not for a while, years, and not since officially confessing to himself that he was in love. He knew that it was there, knew that JC had one, envied JC relentlessly for getting to see it and touch it and know it and...use it. But now, there it was, tenting JC's shorts.

The hand on JC's stomach twitched.

God yes.

No no no!

If JC woke up Justin was dead. It was as simple as that.

Justin laid down carefully. Slowly he eased himself closer to JC. Cautiously he rested his head on JC's pillow, his hand over JC's hand. He breathed in JC and let his fingers soak up JC and closed his eyes.

"Torn Pages" Part Two: Closer