Closer

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?).

"Torn Pages" Part Two: Closer

When Justin awakened, he kept his eyes closed. He kept himself very still. As still as he could remain while his heart was breaking, breaking, breaking with every breath he didn't take. He and JC were in a close embrace, arms around each other, bodies nestled close, faces so close he could feel JC's every exhalation against his lips. He was hard, and it had nothing to do with his bladder.

It was everything, everything, he'd ever wanted. But it wasn't real. It wasn't what he wanted at all.

How could he be so close, physically and emotionally, with JC and still not be satisfied? He should be happy, he should be thrilled. They were best friends. They knew each other inside and out, JC knew his deepest darkest secret and still loved him, they were together. Why couldn't he just be happy? Why couldn't he be satisfied having...having almost, almost almost, everything he wanted?

JC shifted, and JC's breath hitched minutely, and he knew that JC was awake.

"Oh," JC moaned, "I don't... Gross."

Justin was sure he'd never been tenser.

"Hi," JC said, in a completely different tone of voice, sounding almost amused. "You make a nice teddy bear." JC's arms tightened for just a moment and then JC was moving away from him. "I'm like twelve years old," JC muttered, in that disgusted tone of voice again, leaving the bed.

He risked opening his eyes as JC crawled over him and went to the bathroom. He slid his hand over the warm spot that JC had left. He'd awakened with JC in his arms. Why was God taunting him with what he'd never have? Why did he deserve this punishment?

The shower started. His cock twitched. He wondered, and not for the first time, whether he preferred the smell of clean pure JC or the smell of warm sleepy JC. Now that he'd gotten extremely up close to the latter version, he preferred it. But as nice as just-woke-up JC was, just-showered JC had that damp flush, and he always pictured JC naked in the heat and water and steam and god he absolutely could not jerk off in bed with JC just behind that door.

He tried to distract himself. What had JC been referring to just now? It had seemed like...like JC was okay with waking up hugging him. Like that was totally...normal. Fine. No problem. Yeah, they'd slept together before, but they usually either battled for mattress space or kept to their own sides; they never slept together slept together. There were lines that even the best of friends didn't cross. And they'd just crossed one of those lines.

But if JC was okay with that, then what was with the disgusted voice? What was gross, if it wasn't waking up in the arms of a guy with a hard-on?

It was one thing to know that someone liked you. It was another to find his cock hard and pushing into your leg.

The shower was off now. Justin sat up and tried to shield his erection. The bathroom door opened and JC came out, showered and shaven and wearing only a towel. JC knelt by their suitcases and hunted for clothes. Justin knew what was coming next; he dropped to his back and closed his eyes. "JC?"

"Yeah?"

"What was gross?"

"What?"

"When you woke up, you said gross, and something about being twelve years old."

"Oh. Wet dream. Came in my shorts. Haven't done that in ages."

Came...came...came in... JC had had a wet dream. Asleep beside him, asleep with him, in his arms, against his body. JC had come. JC...that cock, JC's cock, around which Justin had built dozens of fantasies, JC's cock, which had been hard last night, it had been hard, he'd seen it hard, JC's cock, it had...and...JC...

God, he was going to come in his shorts, too. He fell out of the bed and ran to the bathroom and locked the door. And before he could get his hand down his boxers, he saw...he saw...

He stepped forward, unable to resist, completely unable, and reached out with one hand. Felt the soft cotton against his fingers. Wet, yes, probably rinsed out in the shower, but...he brought JC's boxers to his nose and his knees went weak. He could smell JC. He dropped to his knees on the cold hard floor, eyes closed, lips parted, and tasted JC with his tongue. His free hand curled around his cock almost as an afterthought.

Chris moaned, leaning forward, his spine melted and no longer supporting him. He rested his forehead on Lance's shoulder and shuddered into Lance's neck. Lance's careful tongue licked around the head of his cock while Lance's hands eased him back onto the mattress. He slid forward, thighs spreading further, and his lone brain cell hoped that the floor wasn't hurting Lance's knees. Then that brain cell was obliterated when Lance's lips wrapped around the head of his cock. Chris hoped that he wasn't screaming. It wasn't good for his voice.

The bus was quiet. Chris and Lance were sleeping, in their respective bunks. JC and Joey were watching TV. Justin was loitering in the aisle, unable to sleep but not wanting to-

"Justin?" A hand on his back. He jumped and made a startled sound. "Just me," JC's voice said, and he swallowed and turned. "Are you okay? You've been avoiding me all morning."

"I'm okay," he said. He was taller than JC. Funny how he always forgot.

"You're not," JC said, looking concerned. "You want to talk about it?"

"I'm okay," he insisted.

"If you're sure," JC said.

"I'm okay," he said again, defensive now.

JC's fingers brushed by his temple. "Get a haircut."

"Bite me." He'd meant to snap it. He really had. Because he was pissed and defensive and taking it out on the person who didn't deserve it. But it came out weak. Too weak. And he found himself whispering, as his chest tightened, "Please."

JC looked at him. He froze when he felt JC's fingers on his. JC lifted his hand, lifted it to JC's mouth, turned it, took it in two hands now, and JC's lips parted, and JC's mouth opened, and just gently JC's teeth nipped at the pad of his thumb.

He fell to his knees, breathing hard, hands on JC's hips, face pressed to JC's abdomen. And he noticed that JC was getting hard. And he wasn't even surprised. He was shaking and he couldn't stop. When had he lost control? When?

JC's hands came over his, loosing his clutch, and JC knelt in front of him. "Justin."

"Don't," he said, and pushed JC. JC balanced and reached for him; he smacked away JC's hand before JC's fingers could catch his chin. JC said his name again and they did it all over: he pushed and JC reached and this time, this time, he didn't smack JC's hand. He smacked JC's face. Hard.

JC went very still very fast, and looked at him. Just looked.

"Guys?" Joey was coming over slowly. "You okay?"

"What's going on?" asked Lance's half-asleep voice from a bunk.

"It sounded like one of you...hit...one of you," Joey said.

"Hit?" Lance asked, awake at that idea, emerging, coming into the aisle.

"What's going on?" Chris asked.

"JC hit Justin," Joey said.

"Justin hit JC," Justin corrected emotionlessly. He couldn't look away from JC's eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes that always smiled at him. There was no smile anymore. Only pain. He'd hurt JC. He'd hit JC. He'd hurt JC. He couldn't look away from JC's eyes, because they were looking right back into his eyes, just looking.

"You hit JC?" Chris asked. "Why? I thought... It makes more sense the other way around."

"No it doesn't," JC said, not moving his eyes from Justin's. "I'd never hurt Justin."

"Is that why you read my journal?" Justin asked. "Is that why... Never hurt me - - you're killing me!"

"I know," JC said with all seriousness. "I know that I'm hurting you. That's why..." Blue eyes closed. JC turned away and stood and faced the others. "How bad does it look?"

"Ouch," Chris said, wincing.

"It's gonna be bad," Joey said, tipping JC's face to one side to see. Justin's fingers burned with envy. "We have to cancel the show."

"What?" Justin asked, and his voice sounded like he was the one who'd been hit.

"JC can't go on like that," Joey told him. "There's no way. We can't let anyone see this. No media, no fans, absolutely no fans."

"We can't cancel," JC said.

Lance handed JC some ice in a paper towel. "We're cancelling."

"Can't we use make-up or-" Justin tried.

"You think we want to cancel?" Joey asked. "JC cannot appear like this, and we can't fix it, and we can't go on without him. We cancel."

"We have to," Chris agreed.

"Can't we say I fell?" JC asked. "Or just... I hate it, but...I'd rather lie than cancel."

"The decision isn't all up to us, anyway," Lance said.

"Whether we cancel or not, people are going to wonder," Chris said. "They're going to ask what's wrong."

"No comment," JC said, and went into the back alone.

Justin was in trouble. Everyone involved in the tour now officially hated him. Their management, their musicians, their security, the other guys, everyone. He knew that if JC had hit him, in an "I don't want some faggot coming after me" move, Joey and Lance and Chris would have supported him. But he'd hit JC, and no one knew why, and his best friends were angry with him.

They cancelled every appearance for that day and the next, went straight to their hotel, and locked themselves in their rooms. More accurately, Chris and Lance went into Chris's room, Joey and JC went in JC's, and Justin threw himself across his bed to hate himself in silence.

He didn't understand. All right, he did understand, some of it at least. He was in love with JC and JC didn't love him back, and that made him frustrated and bitter and angry. What made it even worse was that JC knew about his feelings and was...was...was screwing with his head. Still being his best friend, like nothing was different, when everything was different. And even worse, JC was getting all cuddly close, kissing his cheek before each show, sleeping with him, and then, taking his hand and - - what had that been? What kinds of boundaries was JC trying to cross? And he was supposed to act like it didn't matter? JC was fucking with him and he wasn't supposed to get angry?!

Oh, and then JC said, all serious and sincere, "I'd never hurt Justin." And then when he called JC on it, JC just said, "I know that I'm hurting you. That's why..." That was why what?! None of it made sense. JC was giving him things that he wanted but in the wrong context; it was like mocking him, taunting him, deliberately trying to - - but "I'd never hurt Justin." So what was it supposed to be? If it wasn't a parody of what he wanted, what was it?

Now he had all of the time in the world to wonder about those questions, since they weren't going out anywhere. He'd seriously fucked up this time, no question about it. They'd cancelled everything for two whole days. All of those fans... What had he done?

He'd hit JC. He'd actually hit JC. The last person in the world he ever wanted to hurt. He couldn't believe it. It was like some awful horror movie, where everything was going wrong and he only could sit and watch it happen with a feeling of dread. Of doom.

There was a knock on his door. It sounded like Lance's knock. He rolled off of the bed and opened the door. "Hey."

"Hey," Lance said. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

"We're gonna order room service and eat together in Joey's room. Come on."

"No. No thanks." He moved back just a little.

"Come on."

He shook his head quickly. "I've gotta...um..."

"You've gotta eat," Lance suggested with a smile. It was just so typically Lance that Justin hugged him.

"Sorry. I'm turning into a girl."

"It's okay, you know," Lance said. "We're your friends."

"I hit him."

"Why?"

"Self-defense, I guess. Or maybe revenge. I was hurt and I wanted him to hurt, too."

"You can't avoid him forever."

"Just today and tomorrow."

"I'm going to send Chris over to bother you," Lance promised.

Chris did come to his room. Joey did, too, later. JC didn't, and he didn't leave his room, so they didn't cross paths.

Finally, they had to resume their tour. He got on the bus and took a seat near the front. Chris got on with a dramatic sigh, saying, "Alas, the honeymoon ends."

"Honeymoon?" Lance asked, coming into the bus behind Chris.

"We were in a hotel making love for two days and two nights, and now we're going back to work," Chris said. "What do you call it?"

"Wish I could have sex," Joey said.

"Lance and I will have extra sex to make up for the rest of you," Chris promised.

"Thanks," Joey said.

"No problem," Chris said. "Anything for a friend. One, two, three, four, we're missing somebody."

"Who could it be?" Lance asked.

"Seriously, where is he?" Joey asked.

"In make-up," Lance said. "They want him to be all pretty."

"To ride the bus?" Joey asked.

"He has to walk past everybody to get to the bus," Lance explained. "And they're going to fix him up when we get off the bus, too."

"I don't know what the most disturbing thing about this is," Chris said. "That we had to cancel two days. That we had to cancel because of group problems. That Justin hit JC. Or that I actually saw JC cry."

"He cried?" Joey asked.

"He wasn't sobbing hysterically," Lance said. "But his eyes were leaking."

"And he sniffled," Chris said. "Cheese it, the cops!"

JC stepped onto the bus. "His Majesty has arrived, life may resume."

"So we can blow this popsicle stand?" Chris asked. "Let's go! We have autographs to sign! Fans to greet! Songs to sing!"

"Two days off - - I don't know if I remember the words anymore," Joey said.

"Yeah, I might forget all of the complex rhythms for my solos," Lance said.

"I'm well-rested," JC said. "I can't believe it. I actually got enough sleep."

"It's such a weird feeling," Joey agreed.

"I would have gotten enough sleep, but somebody had other ideas," Chris said.

"Me?!" Lance demanded. "You're the one who..." He broke off, remembering their audience.

"Who what?" Chris asked, teasing. "I what?"

"You know what you did," Lance said. "I don't want to sully any virgin ears."

"There's only one virgin left around here anymore," Chris said. "And he's pretending we all don't exist."

"You know that's not going to work," Joey said. "We can't perform, we can't do anything, if we're not all together."

"Do we need to lock them in a room again?" Chris asked. "It worked last time."

"No thanks," JC said. "Can you give us a second?"

"No throwing each other from a moving vehicle," Chris ordered.

Justin watched the scenery. Someone sat in the seat to his left. He didn't move.

"I used to understand you," JC's voice said.

"Me too," he said to the window.

"I'm sorry. No matter what I do it hurts you and I don't know how to fix it," JC said, sounding frustrated.

He watched the scenery.

"I love you."

"Not enough."

"I..." Silence. JC left him alone.

When they went to the venue for a sound check, Justin looked at JC for the first time in several days. JC, talking to Lance, was turned half in his direction, and there was an ugly dark bruise on the left side of JC's face. He wanted to hurt whoever had done such a thing to JC, but he'd been the one. He'd done that to JC. How could he profess his love for someone and then act out violently? How could he hit one of his absolutely closest friends, his brother, his...his...his nothing, now. JC wasn't his anything anymore. He'd given up all rights when he'd touched JC in anger. He'd wanted so badly, so badly, to touch JC with love, with tenderness, with desire. He cherished JC. He worshipped those cheekbones. And now he'd-

"You okay?" Chris asked.

"It looks bad," he said, still looking at JC.

"Yeah," Chris said. "But the show must go on."

"Did he...tell you what he's thinking?" He used to understand JC. Now he had to go asking around for information.

"Yeah," Chris said. "Pretty interesting stuff."

"What's he doing to me?" Justin asked, feeling lost.

"I've stuck my nose in this business enough. If I hadn't gone through your stuff this never would have happened. I'm not messing around any more."

"I didn't mean to hit him."

"But you did."

"I didn't mean to!"

Joey came over to them. "What's with the yelling?"

"Our show's going to suck tonight," Chris said. "Be prepared."

"I don't care what you have to do," Joey told Justin, "but we are not going to let our show suffer. You and JC make up fast because we are not going onstage under one hundred percent."

"Forget tonight's show, we're doing that TV thing first," Chris said. "Make up now."

The TV thing. Shit. "It's just one song," Justin said. It was the wrong thing to say. They left him. They were mad at him. He was alone.

The day went downhill from there.

At the taping for the national evening newsmagazine, it was made clear beforehand that no one was to ask, on camera or off, about JC's bruise. Three make-up artists, for the show and *NSYNC, worked on JC, but he still looked like he'd been hit. Justin, who tended to do a lot of the talking, had almost nothing to say during the interview. They sang "I Thought She Knew," which was a bad mistake. The song was a cappella, and it depended on their interaction. Justin was off from the first line, which threw off the others as well. The song always flowed perfectly, because they knew each other, they harmonized, they connected; but that day they struggled to stay on rhythm and their harmony faltered. They couldn't lead or follow each other at all.

As soon as the five of them were alone in their dressing room, Chris demanded, "What was that?!"

"We're not together," JC said.

"We have to get together!" Chris shouted.

"We?" Joey asked.

"We work as a team, a unit, one," Chris said. "That's what this is about."

"This is about me and Justin," JC said.

"That's right. And you two need to get it together," Joey said.

"Guys," Lance said.

"You two spend weeks avoiding each other and hating each other, we put up with it. We've been supportive and we've been understanding and we've tried to help. But we just made asses of ourselves all over France! France!"

"Joey," JC tried.

"You two need to get it together now because we are not going to go onstage tonight and look like we did just now. And we are not cancelling another appearance because of it!" Joey shouted.

"I've tried to make it better!" JC yelled. "I have tried! I am trying! I didn't want to cancel anything! I didn't ask for this, I'm just trying to deal with it!"

JC had snapped. And now Justin was snapping too. Silent until now, he whirled around and slammed JC into the wall. "I'm so sorry I ruined your life! I'm so sorry I'm ruining your tour! I'm so fucking sorry I ever fell in love with you! I'm sorry you have to put up with me! I'm sorry I messed up your perfect life and your perfect career and your perfect face!"

The sound of Justin's open palm cracking against the side of JC's face echoed in the sudden silence, followed immediately by the sound of JC's head hitting the wall with the force of the blow.

Lance jerked Justin away from JC. Justin stumbled, coming back to himself, realizing with sudden depth just what he'd done. He pulled away from Lance and fell. On the floor, staring dazedly at JC's dull black boots, he faintly heard Chris leave for ice.

Chris was the only one who spoke to him for the next few hours, and that was only because if Chris hadn't prodded him he would have stayed there on the floor.

For the first time, they went without preshow embraces.

The concert was terrible.

That night, Justin had nightmares.

In the morning, Justin was dead tired and running late. When he stepped into the hallway, he saw JC and Lance by the elevator. He ducked back into his room, door open, to listen for their departure so he could make his escape. He wanted to avoid them for as long as possible, even another thirty seconds. He heard JC saying, "...it's so weird. I could have left them somewhere, I guess. If someone's going to steal my stuff, it's not going to be my underwear."

"JC Chasez's boxers? I know fans who would kill for those," Lance said.

"They weren't clean."

"Hey, for some girls, that just makes it better."

"Just one pair, then?"

"We have nice fans. They don't want to rob you blind."

"But they'll kill."

"They're devoted."

"I probably just left them somewhere." Ding! The elevator doors slid open, and Justin turned his face against the smooth wood of the door.

JC was just settling down on the sofa in the back of the bus when Justin stormed down the aisle. Joey jumped out of the way; Lance and JC looked up, alarmed; Chris looked startled. Justin threw a pair of boxers at JC and stormed to the front of the bus, away from the four of them.

Lance was the first to speak, though he stammered a bit. "I guess we found your boxers."

"Oh god," JC said, lifting them from his chest.

Lance saw what JC had noticed. "You were right. They're not clean."

"That's not...I... That's not mine," JC said.

"What's not...oh." Chris looked down at his hands. "Justin."

"What's going on?" Joey asked, trying to stay calm but not succeeding entirely.

"Justin had a pair of JC's boxers," Lance said.

"He...Justin...came in them," Chris added softly.

"More than once," JC said.

"He needs help," Lance said seriously. "We have to do something."

"What are we supposed to do?" Joey asked. "Cancel the tour?"

"Maybe," Lance said. "Guys, come on, Justin's falling apart, the stress is killing him."

"JC's the one getting beat up, JC's the one with some psycho jerking off in his underwear, and-"

"Justin is not a psycho!" JC protested. "God. I'm going to go talk to him."

"That's not a good idea," Chris said.

"I don't really care." JC pushed away from the sofa and went to the front of the bus.

"If he comes back here with a black eye, we are stopping the tour," Lance said.

JC sat beside Justin. "Hey."

Justin swallowed and looked out the window. "Hey."

"You want these back?" JC asked, casual yet entirely serious.

"No." He was too tired to get defensive or angry or confused.

"You sure?"

Justin shook his head. Might as well be honest. "They don't smell like you anymore. Now they just smell like me."

JC's fingers brushed through the curls above Justin's nape. "We're worried about you. We're only fighting with each other because we're worried about you and we don't know what to do."

"I never meant to ruin everything."

"You haven't ruined everything," JC said. "You're hurting. We just want to make it better, Justin. We'd do anything for you. You know I'd do anything for you." JC tugged lightly on a curl and said, "No offense, but next time you're mad at me, you could throw something besides dirty underwear. I think you traumatized Lance."

"It's hard to say I'm sorry," Justin told the window. "It's hard to make the things I did undone."

"Justin."

His voice hitched. "A lesson I've learned too well for sure. So don't hang up the phone now."

"Justin, don't."

He pressed on, voice quavering. "I'm trying to figure out just what to do. I'm going crazy without you."

"I know."

"You're all I ever wanted. You're all I ever needed. Tell me what to do now..." His voice broke, eyes full of tears that obscured his view through the window.

"I want you back," JC said, finishing it for him, wrapping long slender arms around him, chin on his shoulder. "Come on, Justin, stay with me this time."

He leaned back into JC just a bit, tipped his head back on JC's shoulder, closed his eyes. "Hurts too much."

"I want to make it better. I'm trying. You look awful."

"Nightmares."

"Get some rest now, then." JC kept holding onto him.

"I love you."

"I love you," JC said.

"JC, I'm sor-"

"Sleep now. Apologize later if you still feel like it."

He closed his mouth and slept.

They did better that day. At their autograph signing, Justin sat at the end of the table, beside JC, which saved him from interacting with the others, who apparently thought that he was completely off his rocker. Amazing, how the person he'd abused the most trusted him the most. By the time they were ready to start their concert his footing was a little more solid, and they all hugged him extra tight, and JC's lips brushing over his cheek made his entire body hot.

In the morning, a typically early rise, Justin stumbled onto the bus and said, "I knew I should have brought my other shirt, man. It's freezing in here."

"It'll get warmer," Chris said, squeezing his arm. "Or was that an invitation for me to snuggle up to you?"

It was cool that Chris could tease him. A good sign. He grinned. "Nah. I think I'll snuggle up to Lance."

"He doesn't go for young blondes," Chris said.

"You do."

Chris opened his mouth to rebut but blinked and frowned. Justin grinned. Chris admitted, "I guess I do."

"Sorry, he's taken," JC said to Chris. JC pulled his long-sleeved shirt over his head to expose his T-shirt, and handed it to Justin. "If you're cold, wear this, not Chris." JC patted Justin's shoulder and moved down the aisle.

"Taken?" Chris asked. "You look pretty available to me. You got an ownership tag on your butt?"

"I wish," Justin said, and pulled JC's shirt over his head. He slid his hands over his arms, down his chest. JC's shirt. It smelled like JC. It had been against JC's skin. He wanted to take off his T-shirt and have JC's shirt against his bare torso, nothing between him and JC.

"I'll leave you and what seems to be your favorite new shirt alone," Chris said.

It smelled like JC. "You want these back?" "No." "You sure?" "They don't smell like you anymore." Justin smoothed his hand down his torso again and looked to the back of the bus. Was it possible? Had JC done it on purpose?

Chris sat beside Lance on the sofa. JC was on the floor. "Justin's busy petting himself." JC smiled. "He wants an ownership tag on his butt." Chris turned on the sofa and gave Lance a once-over. "You want one of those?"

"No thanks," Lance said. "My butt's okay as it is."

Chris grinned. "I won't say anything. You made it too easy for me. What about like a dog collar with a little tag?"

"Petting himself," JC said, and scratched his chin. "Chris, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure," Chris said. "Does it involve Lance Bass and a tub of Cool Whip?"

Joey paused in the doorway. "Should I leave?"

"I'll go," Lance volunteered.

"Oh sit down," Chris said. "You too. So what's the favor?"

"Could you sing 'I Drive Myself Crazy?'" JC asked.

"Now?" Chris asked. "Why, you forgot the words?"

"No, just...could you?"

"I guess," Chris said. "As long as you all come in when you're supposed to." They nodded, and he shrugged.

Justin, standing before the refrigerator, heard "Hoohooo, ooohoo." Slowly he closed the door. He heard Chris's lovely high voice start out gently, "Lying in your arms, so close together, didn't know just what I had. 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."

The others joined Chris, harmonizing softly. "I lie awake, I drive myself crazy, drive myself crazy, thinking of you. Made a mistake when I let you go baby. I drive myself crazy wanting you the way that I do, wanting you the way that I do."

And JC came in, where Justin's voice was supposed to be: "I was such a fool, I couldn't see it, just how good you were to me, always. You confessed your love, undying devotion; I confessed my need to be free. And now I'm left with all this pain, I've only got myself to blame."

The four continued with the chorus, JC leading. Justin stood in the doorway, leaming against it for support. JC was singing his own part now: "Why didn't I know it? Why didn't I show it? When I had the chance, I had the chance."

When the impromptu a cappella session ended, Joey said, "Is it just me or is that song about masturbation?" JC burst into laughter.

"It just sounds like that because of the way Chris starts," Lance said.

"I am not singing about masturbation!" Chris exclaimed. "Wash your mouth out with soap this instant!"

"Do we sound good?" Lance asked Justin.

"Potty mouth," Chris muttered.

"He's not answering," Joey told Lance.

"I noticed," Lance said. "Justin?"

"I think we broke him," Chris said.

"Give him a chance," JC said. "His curls are so tight they cramp his brain."

"White boy who raps and grows an afro," Joey said. "Something going on there."

"And he used to be so cute," Chris said, "when he was young."

"You mean when he had blonde hair and blue eyes?" Lance asked.

"Ah, our glory days, when we were young and innocent. Where's that tape?" Chris asked, and crawled onto the floor. He found a videotape under the sofa and pushed it into the VCR.

"What is it?" JC asked as Chris pushed "play."

"*NSYNC *N the Mix: The Official Home Video," Chris announced, sitting beside Lance again.

"God, not this," Joey said.

"Turn it off," Lance begged.

"Look, screaming girls, wow, what's that like?" Chris asked.

"Speaking of bad haircuts," JC said.

"I like this video," Chris said. "Besides the bad haircuts. And I don't want to hear anyone else complain about that, because I personally had the two worst haircuts in the history of our group. You know, I always wonder why JC looks five years younger than he really is. You did back then and you still do now."

"Good genes," JC said.

"Which videos are on this?" Joey asked.

"The Christmas one, 'Here We Go,' 'God Has a Lot of Time on His Hands,' and, um," Chris tried to remember.

"'For the Girl Who Has Everything,'" JC said.

"And 'I Want You Back,'" Lance remembered.

"Both versions," Chris said.

"And 'Tearin' Up My Heart," JC said.

"What is with that?" Joey asked.

"What?" JC asked.

"The video for 'Tearin' Up My Heart.' Just because Justin's the young blonde cute one, he gets to roll all over a bed?" Joey asked.

"Justin's special," Chris said. "I started the band, JC sings the most, but Justin's the young blonde cute one. Even though Lance is almost as young and just as adorable and even blonder. More adorable, really."

"You want to roll all over the bed?" Lance asked Joey.

"Not me," Joey said. "JC could."

Chris coughed. "Well, there was only one bed on the set, so they would have had to," he coughed again, "share it," cough.

Lance slapped Chris on the back. "You okay there?"

"JC never blows me kisses," Joey said as the JC onscreen kissed his fingers to the screaming fans. JC blew Joey a kiss. "Thank you," Joey said.

"Woah," JC said as their personal profiles came onscreen beside their photos. "Why do I look awful?"

"Someone took a bad picture of JC?" Chris asked. "I didn't know that was possible."

"Me either," Lance said.

"Look at pretty Lance," Chris said, pointing to the screen. "Isn't he pretty?"

"Justin, will you be standing in the doorway all morning or are you going to sit down?" Joey asked. He reached over and tugged on Justin's hand. "Come. Sit. Down." Justin sat obediently.

"Look, there we are," JC said as the singing stopped and the "Band History" section began. "Chris, don't abuse the piano."

"Good, yell at me about it two years later," Chris said. "Look how blonde Justin is!"

"Why are you touching your face?" Joey asked JC.

"I'm not allowed to get an itch on camera?" JC asked.

"Band history, band history - - there was a guy named Chris and he knew Justin and JC and Joey but he was stupid and it didn't occur to him to ask all of them, so he just asked Justin and Justin got JC and they all ran into Joey and then Justin found Lance and now they're a group and stop asking!" Chris said.

"Oh be quiet," Lance said.

Onscreen, Justin was saying, "I immediately called JC."

Then the onscreen JC said, "You know when Chris called him he called me like right away and said, 'Yo dude this guy wants to get a group together, we've been singing, why aren't we together?'"

Lance and Joey broke out into wild applause while Chris whistled loudly. JC reached over to the VCR and played that part again. "That is so cool."

Chris and JC onscreen started to talk about needing Lance. The video JC said, "We wanted a round sound, you know, top to bottom."

On the sofa, Chris turned to Lance and said, "I'll be the top, you be the bottom."

JC threw the video box at Chris. Joey said, "Okay, that's enough, if you all can't behave I'm suspending your privileges," and turned off the TV.

"Come on, I wanted to laugh at JC's old haircut," Chris said.

"Says the man who admits, admits, that he used to have hair like - - what were you thinking?" JC asked.

"I'm gorgeous now," Chris said.

"Totally," Lance agreed.

"Well, yeah," JC said. "We're all gorgeous now."

"Some of us more than others," Justin said, stretching slightly, smiling with satisfaction.

"He speaks," Joey said.

"Only to show off his ego," JC said.

"Look who's talking," Chris said.

"What?" JC asked.

"Nothing," Chris said. "Nothing at all."

"That's what I thought," JC said.

Justin stretched and settled on his back, resting his head on JC's thigh. "Is this a private moment?" Chris asked.

"Yes," Justin said, closing his eyes. "Go away."

"Come on," Lance said, rising and tugging at Chris's hand. "Let's give them some alone time."

"Are they going to have sex or kill each other?" Joey asked. "'Cause I keep thinking I have this figured out, but they keep changing the rules."

"Let's go," Chris said. "The prima donna and his concubine would like their privacy."

"Which one's which?" Joey asked, following Chris and Lance.

"We're alone," JC said, running his fingers gently in Justin's curls. "Justin?"

"Mmm."

"You want an ownership tag on your butt?"

Justin's lips curved in a smile. "It would be cool. Maybe I could just tattoo your name there."

"What about a dog collar?"

This smile showed Justin's even white teeth. "A little gold tag. 'Property of JC Chasez.' The collar would be black leather, right?"

"Absolutely," JC said, tugging at Justin's curls. His fingers smoothed over Justin's temples.

Justin opened his eyes and sat up, facing JC, close. He looked directly into JC's blue eyes. "I'm sorry that I hit you." JC nodded. "I'll never do it again. Ever," he promised solemnly.

"Okay," JC said. "I believe you."

"I can't believe I did it. Twice!"

JC put his hand on Justin's. "You were upset. That's no excuse, but it's true."

"Yeah, I was upset."

"Not anymore?"

"I'm...I'm confused. JC, what the...what are you doing? You're... When a guy tells another guy, 'Hey, I'm in love with you,' you don't... You're not supposed to... It's like..."

"It's like what?"

"You're being so nice to me and you're giving me everything that you can, and it's so close to what I want, but it's not. You have to stop it."

"I want to give you everything that you want," JC said. "Everything."

Justin's jaw dropped.

"I love you. I just never thought about being in love with you. Because you're a guy. Justin, I'm not trying to talk myself into feeling something for you that I can't feel. That would be wrong for both of us, and it would make us unhappy, and it could ruin our friendship. But if I can find that...that desire for you, to go with the love I already feel, then maybe...maybe I can give you what you want."

"I don't want pity sex." He tried to move back but JC's grip on his hand tightened.

"I'm not talking about pity sex. I'm talking about being in love and making love and being together. You want us to be together. Don't you?"

"Yes." He wrenched his hand free. "Not because you feel guilty, not because you feel obligated, not-"

"You scared the crap out of me, you made me guilty and furious and scared and angry, when I read what you wrote about me. But that morning, when you were upset, you were all that mattered; I saw you and you were upset and I didn't care about me anymore, I just wanted to make it okay for you. There's something in me that connects to you, Justin. Don't you feel it?"

"Stop it."

"I'm looking at myself, really looking, and I'm trying to figure out what I feel for you."

"Stop it!"

"I was trying, Justin, I was trying. I want to be everything for you. I want you to be happy. That's why, you said 'Bite me,' and I did, I... I was trying to... And you hit me, and I thought, well, maybe that wasn't what you wanted after all."

"I won't let you fuck me because you feel sorry for me!"

"I don't feel sorry for you! I love you and you deserve to be happy and I'm going to do anything I can to make you happy. I'd do anything for you. I'd give you the shirt off my back." JC smiled suddenly. "I have."

Justin yanked it off of himself. "Take it back."

JC gracefully rolled up onto his knees and pulled off his T-shirt. Half-naked, he pulled on his returned long-sleeved shirt and handed the removed undershirt to Justin.

Justin accepted it, all anger obliterated, helpless again, vulnerable, wondering how JC knew exactly what to do to him. He put it to his face, inhaling JC's scent, feeling the soft cotton against his lips. JC's hand came beneath his, fingers pulling at his wrist, lowering it. JC's fingers then caught his chin and guided him forward, JC leaning forward at the same time, and he closed his eyes as he inhaled JC straight from the source, lips against the even silk of JC's neck.

"You can if you want," JC said, hand smoothing over the back of his neck.

"What?" he asked in a low murmur, heart pounding frantically in direct opposition to the slow, lustful, rolling sensation deep in his abdomen.

"Whatever you want," JC said softly. "Whatever you want."

His mouth watered; his left hand settled on the inside of JC's left knee. Slowly his hand slid up JC's thigh over denim.

"Not on the bus," JC said.

"Whatever I want," he said stubbornly.

JC pulled his hand away an inch from its goal. "Not on the bus."

"I want to suck you," he said, and it felt so good to say it, to hear it, out loud, to get it out of his mouth, that he said it again, "I want to suck you."

JC inhaled sharply. "God, Justin, we can't."

"You said I could do whatever I want." Justin knelt in front of JC, leaning in too close, hands on either side of JC's head braced on the sofa, penning JC. "That's what I want."

He watched JC shudder. "Not here, not now."

He reached down and unbuttoned JC's jeans with one hand. Unzipped with two. It was warm down here, hot, and JC was hard. He suspected that he was having an out-of-body experience. He reached inside JC's boxers and pulled free JC's hot, hard, thick, wet cock, flushed deep and throbbing in his hand.

"God, Justin, no. Don't." JC pushed at his shoulders.

Justin slid down and leaned in and opened his mouth. Justin Timberlake could do everything, and he was good at everything that he did, and he was going to be good at this. He started at the base, those coarse dark curls, and licked his way up, up, tracing the seam, feeling JC's hardness and pulse. JC tasted like clean and salt. He put his lips to the flare of the head, tasted the leak of pre-cum on his tongue. JC's cock jerked and he licked more, sucked harder, made love to the slit with his tongue. He got his hand in there, on JC's shaft, on JC's balls, twining his long fingers in JC's pubic hair. JC was panting, breathing harshly, and he put his hand up to feel JC's abdomen quivering. JC's pulse pounded against his tongue.

JC's panting broke off with a choked gasp and here it came, rich spurts in Justin's mouth, and he swallowed, careful not to choke, wanting every last drop inside himself. JC shuddered and he forced himself to let go, forced himself to release JC's cock. But he stayed down there, rested his cheek on JC's thigh, gazed at JC's cock, breathed in JC's musk.

Chris pried Lance's hands from Lance's ears. "I think they're finished."

"I guess it's better than killing each other," Joey said.

"Did they have to do it on the bus?" Chris asked.

"When the mood hits," Joey said. "When you gotta go, you gotta go."

"I want Lance. I'm not going to make out with him onstage just because I want him," Chris said.

"We all appreciate it," Joey said.

"On the bus," Chris said. "Children."

"When we started this group, I had no idea you'd all start groping each other," Joey said.

"I think we need to set rules," Chris said. "Like, no sex on the bus."

"Rule number one, no sex on the bus," Joey said. "What else?"

"Rule number two," Chris said. "No sex onstage."

"Rule number three," Joey said. "No sex on the bus or onstage."

"That's a good list," Chris said. "I think that covers everything. Lance?"

Lance blinked.

"Good."

Justin was half hard the rest of the day. During their show, he tried to keep from looking at JC, not wanting to go into a full-on visible erection in front of several thousand people and their cameras. He refused to eat, wanting to keep the feel and taste of JC in his mouth for as long as he could. He wanted more, wanted to do it again, wanted to taste JC in other places, too. He wondered what it would be like to lick JC's cheekbones. To run his tongue over the definition of JC's biceps.

When they staggered quietly to their hotel rooms, he watched Chris and Lance go into separate rooms. He unlocked his door very very slowly, and in a few minutes Chris came out again and was admitted into Lance's room. He heard one of them turn Lance's deadbolt. He smiled, and he wished desperately that JC would come to his room.

But he knew that JC wouldn't.

He'd had his chance. He'd taken what he could. He'd have to be satisfied with that much. He could go to his room and curl up in bed and jerk off to his memories.

He licked his lips slowly, wishing that he could still taste JC, and let himself into his room. He washed his face and brushed his teeth and peed, then stripped to his T-shirt and boxers. As he pulled down the bedclothes, he heard a knock at his door. JC's knock. He went to open the door.

JC was there, barefoot but still dressed in post-show clothes. "Hey."

"Hey," Justin said. His cock had snapped to a full erection, and he was slightly dizzy. JC looked a little tired around the eyes, but mostly relaxed.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure." He let JC pass, closed the door.

JC locked the door.

Justin dropped to his knees at the click of the deadbolt. He reached for JC's hips, pressing his face to JC's fly, wanting to bury himself in JC's hot groin. Eyes closed, he licked denim. JC's cock was hard. Hard for him.

He felt JC's hand come under his chin, lifting his face. Then JC was kneeling, too, in front of him. "We haven't kissed," JC said.

"You want to?" His entire body was hot.

"I think I'd like to," JC said. "You have pretty, soft, pink lips." JC's thumb brushed Justin's lower lip. "I bet you're nice to kiss."

He was going to get to kiss JC. He was allowed. JC wanted to kiss him. His lips parted; he could feel his breath coming faster. He'd wanted JC so much, so much... He'd never dared... JC was leaning closer, and he tilted his head, and a second before their lips met he saw JC's eyes close in a slow sweep of long lashes. Then their lips did meet, and he shivered.

JC's long fingers slid back through Justin's curls. He could feel JC's fingers against his scalp. He could feel JC's knee pressing against his. He could feel JC's soft lips against his. JC's lips parted, and JC switched angles, and then he couldn't take it anymore, couldn't hold back, couldn't stand this gentle chaste romance. Justin wanted more, and he took it. He opened JC's mouth with his tongue and entered, slid past JC's white teeth, tasted the roof of JC's mouth, stroked JC's sleek tongue. JC was sweet, wet, hot. Erotic. Justin was about to come in his boxers.

JC backed off, giving one quick shake of his head as though to shake off Justin. Justin turned red, but JC just looked at him with a small smile and reached out, skimmed knuckles along his jaw. "You keep going so fast."

"I want you."

"Give me a chance to catch up."

"What do you want?" Implicit in his question was the statement that JC could have anything that JC wanted.

"You've grown up so much," JC said. "You're taller, and stronger. You're a young man now. And your body shows it." JC's hand came under Justin's shirt sleeve, caressing Justin's upper arm. Justin flexed unconsciously and JC smiled. JC leaned in and captured his mouth briefly, hand dropping. "Can you take off your shirt?"

Justin pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside quickly; JC did the same. Justin's hands closed over JC's ribcage. Stroked down slightly, then up. JC's body was warm, and hard, and smooth, and pale. He held JC's shoulders and ducked down, putting his lips to a nipple, feeling it draw tight against his tongue. What an exquisite feeling. He pushed JC back, down, sucking on JC's other nipple, stroking his fingers over JC's abdomen, licking JC's navel. He got his hand between JC's legs, kneading the hardness he found there. JC's cock. JC's erection. He wanted it.

He took it.

As he'd done that morning, Justin opened JC's pants. This time he stripped JC naked entirely, drawing jeans and boxers down and off, before returning for his feast. JC's cock was hard and ready, drooling on JC's stomach. He rubbed JC's balls with one hand, licking up the vein of JC's cock as he did.

"Justin."

His tongue probed the slit at the head of JC's cock, seeking the source of that delicious pre-cum. So good, he wanted more.

"Justin."

He closed his mouth over the head, careful to keep his teeth out of the way, moaning in pure delight.

"Justin."

He suckled delicately, nursing JC gently. Mmm... A hand on his chin tried to push him off, but he growled and took in more of JC's cock. No way was he letting go now. JC's hips rose from the floor slowly, and he took the opportunity to get a hand on JC's naked ass. JC's skin was softer than he'd imagined, silky smooth. He suckled a little harder, giving another low moan. He heard JC echo that moan.

"Justin."

That was what he wanted to hear. JC saying his name in lust, desire, pleasure, appreciation. JC liked his mouth on JC's dick. JC liked his attention. JC wanted him to do this. Grateful, he suckled harder and made JC come. And when JC came, he heard his name again. Twice.

Justin licked carefully and made himself stop, made himself sit up and give JC room. JC sat up slowly, looking stunned. There was a moment of silence where they just looked at each other. Justin didn't know what JC was thinking. Would JC leave now or feel compelled to stay and sleep with him? He wanted JC to sleep with him, he wanted JC warm and naked and asleep in his bed; and right now, frankly, he didn't really care why JC stayed, whether it be out of politeness or guilt. But he expected JC to leave.

Not that he knew why JC was here in the first place.

"You think we could use the bed?" JC asked.

Bed. Bed. JC in his bed. Well, since he kept blowing JC on the floor, a bed might be a nice change. JC was probably used to being in a bed. Because JC had had sex before, with other people.

Justin hated those other people with a fierce intensity. They'd looked at JC, touched JC. They'd had JC. Under their hands, in their beds.

But he had JC now. For a few minutes, at least.

Wait, why? Why bed? To sleep?

Apparently he was about to find out, since JC - - naked JC, JC was naked - - was standing and pulling him along, too. JC sat on the bed, scooted back to make room for him, tugged him in by the hand. So he sat on the bed, too, wondering where to look.

JC's fingertips traced over Justin's collarbone. "Look at you."

He was having plenty of fun looking at JC, thanks.

"All grown up, filled out." JC's hands smoothed over his shoulders, biceps. JC's fingers stroked down his chest. "You feel good."

Justin bit his tongue to keep from saying, "You make me feel good." If JC knew what this meant to him, JC would stop. He couldn't bear for this to end. JC was here. In his bed. Touching him. Voluntarily and on purpose. JC's touch skirted his nipples, moved down his abdomen, came up again. Then JC was moving in closer to him, kissing him, kissing his mouth. Kissing him like it was natural to kiss him. Like their mouths were made to fit together like this. JC's fingers came to his nipples now, rubbed at one, then plucked at the other, went back to the first. That felt good, so good, it was making his entire body shuddery and hot. JC's hand caressed his naked back, and then JC lowered him, setting him on his back on the bed.

Oh god. He was in bed. With JC.

"May I?" JC asked into his mouth.

"Yes," he said. He had no fucking idea what JC wanted to do, had no clue what JC was asking, but he was going to say yes. JC could do whatever JC wanted. Walk out, fuck him, go to sleep, anything, anything.

JC's hands were on him, lifting him, lifting his hips. He held himself up, and JC eased his boxers off, over his butt, over his erection, down and off and onto the floor. Then JC looked at him. Just looked. At his naked, throbbing, hard, dark, leaking cock.

He put his hand over his eyes and wished himself invisible.

JC was touching him again. His chest. His sides. His thighs. "Tell me if you want to stop," JC said softly, right by his ear, and placed a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. And then JC's fingers trailed over his cock.

He came. Hard. All over both of them.

Shocked silence, until Justin started breathing again, harshly. And then JC started to laugh. Quietly at first, until it was obvious that JC couldn't hold back anymore, and then JC was laughing and laughing and he wanted to die.

"I'm sorry," JC gasped, trying to control the hysterics. "I was so worried, I was worried I wouldn't do it right, I was worried it wouldn't be good. And then you just..."

Came like a horny, undersexed teenaged male in bed with his fantasy. Justin sighed. JC left the bed. He kept his hand over his eyes. Bathroom light, water in the sink. JC came back to the bed. Wiped him clean: soft washcloth, soothingly warm water, gentle strokes, attentive cleaning. Justin sighed with pleasure. JC left the bed, came back to him. Rested right against him, right on top of him, warm and smooth and soft and hard and heavy and perfect and right. Tugged his hand from his eyes, which he still refused to open.

JC kissed him. Just a little. "Let me sleep here?"

He swallowed. "Okay."

JC moved then, finding the bedclothes, getting them both covered before snuggling right up against him. "Good night."

"Night."

"Thank you."

He laughed. It hurt. He cried. JC held him until he slept, and didn't let go even then.

Chris always got this weird feeling when he awakened. This strange sensation of dislocation. Like he'd been transported to another reality, and this wasn't his life. Not that he belonged somewhere else, but that this world was way too good to be real. Like he was waking up and still dreaming.

It was bad enough when he opened his eyes every morning and realized, hey, he was in *NSYNC, he'd gotten a band together, and he could do this for a living, sing and dance and be with his friends and have the best time of his life and get paid to do it.

But now, now, when he could wake up and find himself in bed in Lance's arms... He got this weird rush of ecstasy and fear and happiness. Because it was too good. Too perfect. It couldn't be real.

Carefully, trying not to disturb Lance's slumber, he turned in Lance's embrace. Asleep, Lance hugged him closer. He ran his fingers over the bleached spikes of Lance's hair, trying not to worry about how his own hair might look just then. He could wash it and dry it and gel it, but after a long sweaty concert, hard sweaty sex, and several hours of sleep, there was no telling what his hair was doing now.

Concert sex sleep. What a way to live. He had the best life ever.

Lance's eyes - - he loved those pretty green eyes, the color, the shape, the smile in them - - opened just a little, briefly, then closed. Checking on him. Lance smiled and made an "mmm" sound of contentment and pulled him closer. Like he could get any closer. That was just too sweet. Way too sweet. Chris was head over heels for this guy.

It was hard to tell how awake Lance was. And sleep was a precious thing on a tour. But they could sleep on the bus, and there were - - he'd have to remind Justin and JC of this fact - - other things that they couldn't do on the bus. So Chris lifted one leg and pushed Lance over until Lance was flat back on the mattress and he was on top, astride, licking his lips.

Lance made another "mmm" sound and stretched slightly beneath Chris. "Morning." Lance's eyes opened on a warm smile. "You want something?"

Did he want something? Did he want something? What kind of a question was that? He leaned down, resting his elbows and forearms on either side of Lance's head. Lance just smiled at him and stroked his naked back. "Do you want something?" Might as well return the question.

"From you, any time."

"Anything in particular?"

"I liked what we did last night."

Last night. Wow. Oh god. Chris swallowed. "Which part?"

Lance's hand slid up his back, up his neck, to the back of his head. Pulled him in for a slow kiss. "The part where you made love to me."

God. Lance's voice was so totally made for porn. When Lance got that soft low rumble going, Chris couldn't help but shudder. It made him lose his own voice. It was a crying shame that Lance never did it on purpose. It only came out when Lance wasn't thinking about it. When Chris asked for it, Lance got shy and refused to speak.

"Chris?"

His heart was pounding and he wasn't sure why. He licked his lips in an ineffectual stab at composure. "Yeah?"

"You never told me. Did you..." Lance slid down just a bit, thighs spreading under Chris in undeniable invitation. "...want something?"

Justin was warm and comfortable.

"Justin."

A soft whisper at his ear, warm breath giving him a tingle.

"Justin."

Mmm. So nice.

"I have to go. My stuff's all in my room. I'll see you later, okay?"

Soft lips brushing his cheek.

JC? His eyes opened wide; he half sat up, fingers closing quickly around JC's wrist. JC looked at him with concern and sat down again. "Justin? My suitcase and stuff are all in my room. I have to go get dressed."

Right. He breathed evenly and calmed his heartrate. JC was here. JC was leaving. JC was wearing last night's clothes and hadn't shaved and probably needed to shower. JC had come over last night for...something...and now JC was leaving.

"Are you all right?"

He shrugged, releasing JC's wrist. "I'm cool. I could use some more sleep. Go ahead, I have to hit the shower."

JC looked at him for a minute, concerned, then said, "Okay." One soft kiss, on his lips this time, and JC was gone. And he was alone again.

Joey stood in the back and watched his friends board the bus. Justin came on first and went straight to the bunks, pulling the curtains shut. Guessing that something had happened with JC again, Joey wondered how worried he should be. Lance and Chris came on next, looking way too cheerful. He smiled back at their greetings, not having to guess the cause of their good moods. When they moved in close to each other, he looked away discreetly. If they wanted to kiss he didn't care, but it would be rude to stare. Lance got into a bunk and Chris came over to Joey again.

"Good morning," Joey said.

"Excellent morning," Chris agreed. "Hey, JC," as JC stepped onto the bus.

"Hey," JC said, looking relaxed and friendly. Whatever was bothering Justin wasn't bothering JC. "You look happy."

Chris smiled. "I slept well."

"How'd you sleep?" Joey asked.

JC hesitated. "Fine," he said slowly, eyeing Joey. "Why?"

Joey gave him a pointed stare.

"What?"

"So where's Justin?" Chris asked, oh-so-subtly trying to help Joey clue in JC.

JC's eyes widened. Way to get the hint, Chasez. "Sleeping," Joey said with a gesture toward the bunks. "He doesn't look good."

JC frowned and stepped forward, only to be stopped by Joey's hand on his arm. "We made up some rules," Joey said.

"Three of them," Chris added.

"Rules?" JC asked, puzzled.

"No sex on the bus. No sex onstage. No sex on the bus or onstage," Joey said.

"Think you can remember that?" Chris asked.

JC turned red with embarrassment. "Yes." He removed himself from Joey's grasp and walked back to the bunks.

Chris and Joey looked at each other and corrected JC's statement. "No."

JC pushed aside the curtains slowly. "Justin?"

"What?" Justin rolled to his back, looking up at JC.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine. What's up?"

"Just checking."

"You don't have to check up on me. I'm not going to fall apart again."

Justin's tone was hurt, angry, defensive. JC kept his own voice calm. "You're allowed to cry, Justin."

Justin turned his back in denial and dismissal. He felt JC come closer, felt lips at the back of his neck; then the curtain closed and he was alone again.

While the two young blondes slept, the rest of *NSYNC sat in the back of the bus and talked about nothing in particular. Soon enough they had to leave the bus for appearances, sound checks, more appearances, their concert. After a full day and adrenaline-surging night, the five young men trooped into another hotel. Chris went into his room, messed up things for the sake of appearances, and went to Lance's room, Lance's bed, Lance's arms. Joey was too tired to resent his friends for getting sex. Justin got into bed in record time and masturbated quickly, abusing his cock, panting harshly, shaking, gasping out JC's name. Coming down, gazing at the ceiling, trying to keep his mind blank, he heard a knock at the door.

"Justin?"

No. No. No. No. No.

"Justin, if you're awake, please open the door."

No. No. No. No. No.

Silence. He waited. JC must be gone by now.

Gone! He'd waited too long, JC must be gone by now, he'd lost his chance. He couldn't afford to miss chances, not anymore, not while each opportunity might be his last.

Hating himself, too scared to leave the bed and go to JC's room, Justin slept alone.

Joey watched Justin get on the bus and head for the bunks. "De ja vu all over again."

"What?" Chris asked, following Lance onto the bus.

"Justin's still being all depressed," Joey said.

Lance yelped. "Chris!"

"What?" Chris asked, all innocence and wide dark eyes.

"You...you grabbed my butt," Lance said.

"Me?" Chris asked, astonished. "I wouldn't do that."

"Since when?" Joey asked.

"My mother taught me to keep my hands to myself," Chris said. "Joey, did you smack Lance's ass?"

"No sir I did not," Joey said.

"You're imagining things," Chris told Lance. "I didn't do it, Joey didn't do it-"

"Hey, guys," JC said, boarding the bus. "What's going on?"

"Chris is grabbing Lance and Justin's moping," Joey said.

"You need to stop grabbing Lance," JC told Chris.

"I think you need to start grabbing Justin," Chris said. "And I'm going to go now before JC smacks me into next week." He took Lance's hand and moved down the aisle.

"Remember the rules," Joey told JC, and followed Chris and Lance.

JC went to the bunks, saying Justin's name softly. He received no response but moved aside the curtain.

"What?"

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

"I went by your room last night but you didn't answer."

"Maybe I was sleeping."

"We can't start lying now."

"I said 'maybe,'" Justin muttered, looking away from JC's blue eyes.

"Scoot."

"Scoot where?"

"Over."

Justin scooted, and JC came in beside him, so that Justin was on his back and JC was on one side, propped on an elbow, pressed up against Justin to keep from falling to the bus floor. "Happy?" Justin asked bitterly.

"Better. Justin, we'll always be friends. We've known each other forever."

"Yeah."

JC, temple resting on his right fist, put his left hand on Justin's chest. "I think that I want you."

"Want me?"

"Want to have sex with you."

Justin didn't say anything.

"You kissed me like you were putting yourself into it, like it mattered, like it wasn't just a lead-in for sex or a tease, like it was... I've never been kissed like that. You were so good." JC's hand raised; his thumb brushed across Justin's lower lip.

Then JC was kissing him. Kissing him. He opened his mouth for JC; when JC's tongue invaded, his cock throbbed in response. Oh, god, JC. JC was over him now, on top of him, and he put his thigh between JC's, bent his knee, rocked his hips. JC moaned into his mouth, started rubbing against his thigh. Oh, yeah...yes...yes... Justin didn't know whether he was trying to get off JC or himself anymore. Felt so good. JC on top of him, touching him, kissing him, licking the insides of his mouth, getting off against his thigh. He got his hand between their bodies, running greedy fingers down over JC's fly.

"No, Justin, no, we can't-"

He reached up and kissed JC hard and fast. "Just lay back, hold still, and be quiet," he instructed.

Five minutes later, Chris went to get a drink from the bus fridge. Seconds after his departure, he sat on the sofa again.

"What?" Joey asked.

"Chris?" Lance asked.

"JC forgot the rules," Chris said.

"They're doing it on the bus again?" Joey asked.

"Doing...what...on the bus again?" Lance asked.

"Sounds like the same thing they did last time," Chris said.

"You think they ever...?" Joey asked.

"We're allowed to think about that?" Chris asked. "If we're allowed to talk about it... I don't think they have."

"Good."

"Good, yeah, good. As long as they're being this weird and back-and-forth over whatever it is they're doing, they shouldn't be going full-out," Chris said.

"This isn't our business," Lance said.

"They're having oral sex on the bus," Chris said. "That's our business."

Justin rested on top of JC. His cock was hard, no doubt drooling all over inside his pants, but he ignored it. He closed his eyes, listened to JC's heartbeat, felt JC's fingers toying with his curls, and treasured every second.

Chris was having a lovely day. He gave the credit to waking up to the best blow job of his life. Talk about starting your day off right. He had a great life, the concert went perfectly, and all evidence pointed to Justin and JC going to bed together and getting over this weird soap opera. When he was permitted entrance to Lance's room that night, he was ready for the perfect end to the perfect day.

"What is with you?"

Lance didn't sound mad, exactly, but apparently someone wasn't sharing his happy mood. "What do you mean?" he asked, wondering if his perfect day were about to go sour. They hadn't had a fight yet, and while he knew that disagreements and misunderstandings were a part of any relationship, he'd hoped to put that stuff off until later.

"You've been grabbing me all day."

"You're nice to touch. I didn't do it in public."

Lance's green eyes softened; Lance's fingers ghosted over Chris's goatee. "You're nice to touch, too." Lance's kiss was petal-soft. Chris went to a happy place. Then Lance said, low, soft, in the Lance Porn Voice (patent pending), "Do you want me to touch you?"

Suddenly Chris was in a very happy place.

"Do you want me to touch you?" Lance asked again, in close now, a warm exhalation across Chris's earlobe. "Do you like it when I touch you?" Slow lick up the side of Chris's neck. "Does it feel good?"

He didn't know what had gotten into Lance, why Lance was fulfiling his fantasies, but he wasn't going to complain about it. "Yeah." That pretty much covered all of Lance's questions.

"Yeah," Lance repeated, low at his ear, and Chris's knees weakened considerably. "You know what I want, Chris? Do you know what I like? Do you know what makes me feel good?"

"What?" He really, really wanted to know.

Lance moved slowly, crossing Chris's field of vision, going from Chris's right to left. In his left ear, a low voice: "I want to fuck you. I like to fuck you. It makes me feel...good."

Lance. Said. Fuck. Chris dragged Lance to the bed and tried to strip them as quickly as possible. It didn't help that Lance was laughing at him, but he wasn't offended. Apparently he was developing some new mild kinks, and as long as Lance was willing to play along from time to time, Chris didn't care if Lance did find it funny. He gave Lance a quick kiss before yanking down Lance's pants. "I am so lucky to have you."

"Me too," Lance said, kicking his pants out of the way and rolling on top of Chris. "So can I?"

"Can you what?"

"Make love to you."

"I thought you were going to...fuck me."

"I don't think I know how."

Chris laughed. "You don't know how?" Lance was turning red from embarrassment, so Chris took pity on him. "It's the same thing, Lance. Just faster, and harder, and usually lacking in an hour of foreplay."

"I like foreplay. What's the point in faster? And I don't want to do it harder. That could get painful."

"It's not..." Chris sighed, then smiled. "I could fuck you so you know what it's like."

Lance licked his lips. Thought about it. "Okay."

Chris's eyes narrowed. "You're afraid to do it to me, because you think it'll be unpleasant and painful, but you'll let me do it to you?"

"I know you'll make it good. I know you won't hurt me."

Chris didn't know what to say to that. That was love. That was trust. "I don't know what it is, but... They say that girls are the sappy sweet romantic ones, but I've been with girls, and no one ever gave me half the warm-hearted moments you do. I think you've done something to my brain."

Lance smiled. "If you want me to stick to guy stuff, I can stick to guy stuff. So do you wanna have sex or what?"

"That's better," Chris said. "You want me to fuck you?"

"Definitely."

He grinned. "Ask me to. Ask me right."

Lance rested his forehead on Chris's chest. "Chris."

"Come on, please? If you ask me I'll make you feel good."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes, you do." Because of course Lance didn't have to, and they both knew it.

Lance sighed and raised his head. As he rolled them over, putting himself on the bottom, he said, in his best low voice, "I want you to fuck me, Chris. I want you to fuck me hard. I want you to-" The rest of his sentence was cut off by Chris's kiss, and as Chris's hand slid down into his groin, Lance decided that he'd have to remember to use that voice next time he wanted something from Chris. He'd have to use it selectively, so that it didn't lose its power.

Justin swallowed and locked the door, then turned and leaned back against it, looking at JC.

"We don't have to," JC said, coming closer again.

"You said we could."

"Okay." JC kissed him. He moaned and sucked JC's tongue into his mouth, one hand sliding down JC's back, his other hand gripping the doorknob for control. "Tell me what you want."

"Make love to me," he said, trying to recapture JC's tongue.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, yes, do it." He felt JC's hand on his side, burning through his shirt, and when JC licked over the roof of his mouth he almost pulled the doorknob off of the door.

"Justin." JC stopped kissing him, looked at him. "I don't know if I can."

"You can't fuck me?" he asked. Did he sound angry? Was he angry?

JC's hands rubbed his sides, up and down, trying to reassure him. "Can we go slow?"

"Fuck me, don't fuck me, do whatever you want." He jerked away and headed for the bed.

"Justin." JC's hand on his elbow stopped him, pulled him back and around to face JC. "Listen to me for a second. Actually making love to you sounds like a very-"

"I know you've done it before, you've fucked other people, you can damn well fuck me."

"Stop swearing and listen to me. I love you. You're everything to me. You're nothing like anyone else I've ever been with. This is too important to me."

"I want you so much," he said, closing his hands over JC's hips.

"I know," JC said gently. "First things first. We haven't used condoms so far, which was stupid of us. I don't have anything. You don't have anything. Neither of us is going to get pregnant. Neither of us is going to cheat. Do we need condoms?"

"No."

"Okay. Lubricant. You have some?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. You get it and meet me in bed."

Justin ran for the lubricant so fast he almost ripped the zippers in his bag, because he wanted to hurry up and get to watch JC getting naked. Crouched by his carry-on, squeezing the tube, he watched with wide eyes as JC stripped out of boxers and T-shirt, JC's muscles flexing, JC's slender tight body exposed, and then JC climbed into the bed.

Justin wiped up a small strand of drool and headed for the bed. He dropped the tube on the bedside table and skinned out of his clothes. He knew that he had a great body, but he was still nervous about showing it to people, showing it to JC. Even though JC had already seen it.

JC's hand on his shoulder, JC's mouth on his, he laid on his back. He wrapped an arm around JC's shoulders and reached his free hand down between JC's thighs.

After gasping and then spending an involuntary minute rocking against his touch, JC uncurled his fingers and made him let go of JC's cock. "Taking it slow," JC reminded him.

"That was slow," he muttered. JC chuckled and kept kissing him. He ran his hand down JC's ass to content himself. Mm, that was nice. "You have a pretty ass, JC."

"You too."

"You ever let anybody touch it?"

"You mean..." JC stopped kissing him. "You mean...no."

"You ever touch it?"

"No."

"You should. It feels good."

"You want to?"

Justin's eyes widened. "Me?"

"You said it feels good."

"Yeah, but... You want me to?"

"I want to try it."

"Okay." Justin swallowed and reached for the lube on the table.

"Do I need to move?"

"No, that's okay." Justin uncapped the tube and tossed the cap on the table, then squeezed a little onto two fingers, JC watching intently. "Scoot up a little and spread your thighs some." JC obeyed. "Tell me if you want to stop."

"Okay."

"Scared?"

"A little."

"We don't have to."

"I want to know. Just do it."

If he were taking JC's virginity even in this small way, he wanted to watch, to see what he was doing. But he liked this, the intimacy of their position, and he didn't want to make JC any more nervous. He put his arm over JC's shoulders again, his other hand reaching down. He ran his hand over JC's ass, traced up the cleft, probed, and there it was, JC's secret. He ran his finger around the pucker a little, just to get JC used to being touched there at all. Then he pushed in a little. He worked his finger in and moved it around some. JC's ass was tight-tight and hot. It felt good clamped down on his finger. He felt around, assuming that the hot spot was pretty much on the same place in every guy. Right...there. Oh, yeah, JC liked that one. He pushed at it again and again and again and again and then he rotated his finger and pulled it out and went back in with two.

"Feel good?"

JC's voice was thick with passion. "More."

He laughed and pulled his fingers free. "Don't get greedy."

Slow, low moan. "That felt so good," JC said. "I like that. Why didn't anybody tell me?"

He smiled and kissed JC and rubbed up against JC's hard cock and sexy body and silky skin. Felt good, so good, yeah, maybe he'd just come right now. "Let me suck you."

"No."

"Please."

JC stopped kissing him again, damn it. "No."

"Why not?"

"You've already given me three orgasms to your one. I think it's your turn again."

"Come on, JC."

"You don't want to come?"

"I'd rather suck you."

"You're seriously disturbed. Lie still. Stop pouting." JC's fingers closed around his cock. Oh god that was good. He grit his teeth and arched his spine and tried not to come, grasped at his self-control while JC stroked up and down on him.

"Oh...god, JC. Please. Please, JC, I...oh..." He made this soft sort of sound and came all over both of them.

"We've gotta work on your timing. You come way too fast."

He shoved JC's shoulder. "If you'd let me suck you, we wouldn't have that problem."

"I wanted to touch you."

"So touch me."

"Can I now?"

"I'm all gross now."

"Hold on." JC left the bed for the bathroom, came back to him and wiped him up quickly. "Is that better?"

"Yeah."

"Glad you approve." JC kissed him.

"Now can I suck you?"

"I still owe you another orgasm. Maybe I should suck you."

"Did you just...say that?"

"God I hope not." JC's forehead rested on his. "Sorry."

"You don't have to do it." He pet JC's hair.

"I should."

"That's stupid."

"You do it to me. I can't make love to you if I'm not going to...give you a...blowjob."

"There aren't rules for this."

"It's basic fairness."

"I don't want you to push yourself into stuff just to make me happy. If you don't want me-"

"I do want you."

"You want me to be a girl."

"I don't."

"Stop trying so hard."

"Stop pushing me."

"I'm not!"

"Lie still."

"Why?"

"I want to try something."

"Don't."

"Do you mean it?"

"No. Go ahead."

"Okay." JC slid down his body. He leaned up on his elbows to watch. JC was propped on an elbow, leaning off to one side, just looking at his crotch. He spread his thighs a little, wondering if JC would suddenly realize, "Oh, that's right, I'm straight," and leave. But JC showed no signs of leaving.

He tensed as JC reached out for him. Slender fingers lifted his cock, just sort of holding it. He hadn't expected close-up scrutiny, and it was making him nervous. Besides that, he was starting to get turned on again.

"I like this," JC said, JC's thumb running up and down his cock. "I like touching you."

"Oh. Good."

JC's lips quirked at that. "It's pretty."

"What's pretty? My dick?"

JC's cheeks flushed. "Yeah."

"Not really what I wanted to hear."

"It is pretty."

"You couldn't say it's...something else? Something a little more impressive?"

"Hold onto your ego, there, Justin."

"Oh, come on. I've got a good dick."

"It's pretty."

"It's big."

JC snorted.

"It is! It's bigger than yours."

"It is not!" JC looked up to his face now.

Damn, JC was pretty. "It is so."

"It is not!"

"C'mere and lemme see." JC was still stroking his dick and it felt good, it felt so good, JC's fingers on him. Without letting go, JC sat up and moved closer, and he sat up, and JC had a cock in each hand, and the sight of naked JC, JC's hand on JC's cock, JC's hand on his cock, and then the two of them together, made Justin's head swim. Then JC brought their cocks together and the world really did spin, all of that sensitive heat sliding right alongside his own, oh sweet Jesus, Justin gasped and shuddered at that exquisite, intimate sensation.

"Oh," JC said softly.

Justin's fingers ran across JC's naked shoulders. "JC." There was no reason to say it, except that those two letters had come to mean so much to him that the mere sound stroked something deep inside of him. Heat flushed his body, and he looked up at JC, JC who was lying over him, JC who was on top of him and close and beautiful and intimate and sexual, JC who had a hand on his cock, whose cock was throbbing hard against his own.

"Justin," JC whispered, and kissed him. As their mouths connected, JC's body settled down against him, JC's weight pressing him into the soft mattress, and JC was all heat and silk and muscle and motion, JC's body moving against his.

Justin tried to figure it out later. Sometimes, he pinpointed that moment as The Moment, the official true moment that he locked into place in JC's heart. He wanted to know the moment when he'd moved from friend and experiment to the object of JC's love and desire. He asked JC about it, and JC said that maybe he'd been JC's one true love for so long, for so many years, that it would be impossible to pick one moment.

At that answer, he demanded to know why JC hadn't shaped up and made a move much earlier, when he'd been losing his mind from unrequited love.

"We were already so close," JC said. "I didn't think it was possible to get any closer."

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