Disclaimer: These people own themselves, I'm just using my imagination and borrowing their names and their faces and their situation. Please don't come after me with... (can you guess?) a rope! ;)


        When Lance woke up the next morning, he felt strong arms around him, and a hand caressing his back. He himself was draped over Justin, laying on his stomach on Justin, one arm thrown possessively over Justin's stomach/chest, and one leg interlaced through Justin's. He could feel Justin's rythmic breathing under him, a fact he took a moment to delight in before slowly looking up.
        Justin's blue eyes were watching him, and as he did so, he continued to lightly run his fingers up and down Lance's back. Lance smiled at him and Justin smiled back in what looked like relief as both boys shifted to interlace even tighter together.
        "How long've you been awake?" Lance asked, bringing his arm up to Justin's chest so he could lean his chin on the back of his hand, loving the way Justin's bare chest felt.
        "A little while; not long."
        "And you've just been laying here the whole time?"
        Justin spoke very seriously. "There's no where else I'd rather be."
        Lance smiled warmly. Such a good answer, Lance thought to himself. He sighed in contentment and to his surprise, Justin laughed. "What?" Lance asked, confused.
        Justin was laughing so hard it took him a moment to answer, so Lance simply enjoyed the feel of his chest shaking. It brought a smile to his own face, even though he had no idea what Justin was laughing at.
        "You just voiced my exact feelings," Justin told him, still laughing slightly. He calmed down, keeping only a small hint of a smile. "I'm exactly where I want to be."
        "Me too," Lance assured him, and Justin rewarded his two words with a gentle, happy smile and large hug that nearly broke his bones. "Ow!" Lance gasped, and Justin finally let go. Lance arched an eyebrow. "You know," he began playfully. "If you break me, you can't cuddle with me because I'll be in a very hard body cast."
        Justin grinned. "I'll get to play nursemaid."
        Lance considered this thoughtfully. That could be fun. "But then we'll have to end the tour," he pointed out.
        It was Justin's turn to rethink things. "Worth it," he objected.
        Lance made a face. "To who? Not to me! I happen to like money."
        Justin laughed out loud. "I'll give you all of mine," he assured Lance, hugging him and then relaxing. Lance grinned and settled back in Justin's arms, on his back beside Justin this time, lightly running his fingers up and down Justin's arms, which were tightly locked around Lance.
        "This is going to be a good tour," Lance began thoughtfully, smiling slightly to himself. He could feel it, in his heart. "This is going to be a great tour." He shifted and looked up at Justin, who was watching him. His heart skipped, stupidly enough. "Ya think?"
        "Yeah," Justin agreed, smiling, and hugging Lance tighter. "Our best yet."
        Lance had a feeling Justin meant more than just the singing.

        JC knew something had happened between Justin and Lance the night before. A... wall had been broken between the two of them. As JC watched from his spot next to Chris on the couch, Lance spoke and worked with Wade during their break, and Justin hopped on his back, Lance staggering for a moment, both of them laughing. They had been almost literally all over each other all day, and they looked so happy... JC couldn't help but be happy for them. They were so good together... They set off this chemestry that made everyone around them glad to be in their presense.
        Whatever had happened between Lance and Justin the night before had been a very awakening moment for both of them, JC mused, watching as Justin wrestled Lance to the ground. Joey joined in on their dog pile, and after a half second, so did Chris, but JC opted to remain on the couch. Justin somehow got out, and he grabbed Lance and hauled him out, and they laughed before Joey staggered into them and they collappsed to the ground, on top of each other. JC stared as Lance--who was on top--grinned wickedly down at Justin, laughing out loud when Joey fell on him, and then Chris. Justin made 'oofing' sounds with each additional weight, but JC had a feeling he was a bit more focused on the body on top of his at that moment. Lance was smirking at Justin, who looked ready to claim that smirk as his own. They were cute, no doubt about that.
        Joey grabbed Lance and hauled him up over his shoulder, while Lance protested weakly. Justin was pounced on by Chris, who tried to tickle him to death.
        JC laughed at their antics, but his real grin came when Wade made them settle down and get back to work and he saw the look that Justin sent Lance's way when Lance was talking to Wade, and the look Lance sent Justin when Justin was staring into the mirror, trying to watch his movements. JC could not believe that after all of that, they were still playing this game. And then JC nearly laughed out loud in amusement when he saw the two boys' eyes meet in the mirror, watching each other, and then caught, they offered shy, sheepish smiles at each other.
        So cute, JC thought, laughing to himself.

        "Ow..." Justin moaned, rubbing his shoulders as he sank down onto the couch.
        "What's wrong?" Lance asked, not moving his head as he glanced up over his book. He was curled up in the arm chair with a blanket over his legs, a fire roaring in the fireplace, and a soft, classical station drifting out through the speakers. He'd been there almost since they got back from the studio an hour ago, while Justin had disappeared into the bathroom, and Lance heard the shower going. Sure enough, Justin's hair was still damp and he had that, 'freshly showered' air about him.
        "I'm sore from where I landed on my back earlier. That's why I took a shower. Hoping to allievate some of the pain." He sighed. "Didn't work very well."
        "Kinks or bruises?"
        "Both, I think." Justin rolled his shoulders and winced. "I couldn't see very well in the mirror."
        "Well lemme see," Lance suggested, setting his bookmarker in his book and then putting it on the table beside him. Justin came over and knelt down, and Lance nearly shivered as his fingers brushed Justin's skin, drawing the shirt up to expose his battered back. There were some faint bruises along his flesh, but other than that, Lance couldn't see anything. Still... He wanted to kiss those bruises and make them all go away. He lightly ran his fingers over them, noting the way Justin shivered, and then let the shirt fall. "Come here," Lance ordered gently, turning Justin around and guiding him into the arm chair. Justin crawled onto the chair on Lance, and they switched the same positions they'd been in that morning. Now Lance held Justin, who curled up to him, and lightly Lance ran his fingers over Justin's back.
        "Diagnosis?" Justin asked, playing with Lance's shirt.
        "Bruised, slightly. Doesn't look like much fun."
        "It's not," Justin assured him, sighing and then releasing where he played with Lance's shirt.
        Lance shifted slightly, bringing Justin closer, so that Justin's head rested on Lance's shoulder, and then soothingly stroked his back. "Don't worry," Lance soothed. "Try not to think about it."
        "If I was down, would your arms lift me up, above the ground, with just the strength of your love? If I was lost, would I find something in your eyes to lead me home? And if it all went wrong, would you be there to hold me? It's easy to be there through the good times. But when the times get hard, would you stay or walk away?"
        Lance nearly shuddered, drawing Justin all that much closer, and still trying not to hurt him. He hesitated before pressing his lips to Justin's forehead in a long, tender kiss. He didn't meet Justin's eyes when it was over, only pulled Justin into a long, loving hug. Not even Justin could miss the true emotions behind that.
        Justin let out a soft sigh of happiness, and then slowly his breathing steadied, and Lance was left to think about the words in the song, wondering how Justin could even think that he wouldn't. But Lance had a feeling that wasn't what Justin meant. He was thinking that maybe Justin was saying he knew Lance would be there.
        Lance hugged Justin once more before closing his eyes and allowing sleep to claim him.

        The rest of the two weeks had passed quickly, and they were starting the tour all over again. The guys were all nervous and excited at the same time as they packed their belongings and piled onto the bus they knew oh so well.
        Justin was nervous for more reasons than just the tour. He had grown very used to sleeping with Lance, and with these bunk beds, he knew it would be impossible to do so without the other guys finding out. Then there was the small matter of the hotel room, having to get double beds. And, well... the two of them had grown very accustomed to their life together at home, but not on tour. Were things going to change? He knew that they had to be incredibly careful around each other, considering just how touchy-feely they'd gotten with each other, but on the other hand, Justin didn't want to give that up. The thought of not getting to touch Lance whenever he wanted was almost devistating.
        "Aw, yes, our home away from home," Lance drawled, peering in over Justin's shoulder. Justin tried not to shiver, once again thinking about how adorable his best friend was, and how damn sexy his voice was. "What d'you think, Jus? Think we can live here for some more months of our lives? I think we've grown up more here than we have anyplace else." He tossed his bag onto his bed, the one across from Justin's, and wearily sank down on it. "Are you as utterly exhausted as I am? Just the idea of hittin' the show that much is enough to make me ill." Lance paused and looked up at Justin, studying him. "What's wrong?"
        Justin opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out, so after a minute, he gave up and helplessly dropped to his own bunk bed, placing his chin in his palm and staring at his green-eyed best friend.
        Lance arched an eyebrow and slid to the other side of the bus, joining Justin, and put his arms around him in a hug. "What's wrong?" he cooed gently, and it was all Justin could do not to cry. Lance really was his other half. He wasn't whole without Lance.
        "I'm just tired, I suppose," Justin finally answered, his voice strained. "The idea of hittin' it that many times doesn't appeal all that much to me, either."
        "Oh Justin," Lance sighed. "When are you going to learn that you can't lie to me?" He pulled back, and Justin felt himself captivated by those green eyes. "What's wrong?" he repeated gently.
        "Things are going to change," Justin blurted before he could stop himself. "B-between us, I mean. I'm not even sure if I can sleep by myself anymore. A-and other things."
        Lance arched an eyebrow again. "That's what's been worrying you for the past few days?" he asked, as though in disbelief. Justin nodded meekly, dropping his eyes. Lance reached out and brought Justin's chin up quickly, and Justin stared at him in shock. Lance was not usually so forward, but lately, it was like he wasn't going to give up what he wanted... And he wanted Justin. Or so Justin hoped. "Yes," Lance relented, a bit sadly. "Things are going to change. But I have a feeling that we'll be creative." Justin's eyebrows raised, and Lance smiled back. "So don't worry, alright?"
        Justin nodded, feeling his necklace bang against his neck. He only wore that one now. The others he discarded at the bottom of his bag, and half of them he left at Lance's. He didn't need them anymore.
        Lance sighed and drew Justin into a hug, reluctantly letting go when they heard the other guys clombering towards them. They sat side by side on Justin's bunk, their feet on the floor, and looking up at the doorway as the other three entered.
        "Are we ready to partay on the big bus?" Chris cried as he jumped into the room.
        Lance and Justin just sighed.
        Chris frowned and turned JC and Joey. "What's with them?" he asked.
        "They're fine," JC assured him. "Drop your things and let's go play that Sega!"
        That got Chris into action, and he tossed his bag on his bed, running out to the tv room. Joey and JC followed, JC closing the doors behind them.
        Neither one said anything for a long time, until finally Justin flopped back on his bed. Lance was still sitting there, staring at whatever he was staring at, and all Justin wanted him to do was lay down beside him. Please, Justin's mind begged. Please come lay with me. Please, Lance. Please...
        Lance sighed and glanced over his shoulder at where Justin was, then kicked his feet up and laid down beside him. Only their sides pressed against each other, but that was more contact than no contact, and Justin was willing to take what he could get.
        "I'm not going to be sleeping well," Justin muttered. "No wonder my parents had such a hard time when they got divorced."
        Lance turned to look at him. "What d'you mean?"
        Justin looked back at Lance. "When my parents got divorced, neither one of them could sleep very well, and they always said it was because they were used to having someone else in the bed with them. I had no idea what they meant until now."
        Lance laughed slightly. "We're not getting divorced, Jus, we're just moving to opposite sides of the bus."
        Justin smiled weakly, but it didn't last. "As wrong as this sounds, it still doesn't keep you in my bed."
        Lance laughed out loud, his eyes dancing. "If I remember correctly, it was my bed," Lance objected teasingly. Justin made a face at Lance, who laughed again. "Okay, so maybe it was kinda our bed," Lance admitted. He offered Justin a smile. "We'll be okay, and if it really gets that bad, we're only a couple of steps away from each other." He rolled out of the bed and took one step, two steps, three and a half before bumping his calf into his bed and turning around to face Justin, who was watching him with a slight smile. "Make that three and a half steps," he corrected, sliding back into the bed with Justin, who immediately inhaled his scent deeply and reveled in his closeness.
        "A stolen moment here, a stolen moment there," Justin breathed playfully.
        "A stolen moment everywhere," Lance rhymed, grinning. If they had been at home, their arms would have been around each other, but now... They were no longer flirting partners here. Here they were Lance and Justin, best friends to the extreme, left to give long looks when the other wasn't looking. It almost broke Justin's heart.

        "I remember you told, me, that it made you believe in no man, no cry, maybe that's why, every little thing I do, never seems enough for you."
        Lance poked his head into the living room area from the beds, studying Justin, who was singing to himself as he worked on something.
        "What're you doing?" Lance asked, trying not to laugh as he entered the room. Justin was alone, and Lance had been trying to get some sleep after kicking Chris' butt in video games. Justin hadn't been there, but Justin and Lance hadn't been together a lot during the past few days that they'd been driving.
        Justin looked up defensively. "Singing," he answered. "I don't suck that bad. That's my song!"
        Lance held up his hands in surrender. "I wasn't sayin' anything, Curly. I was just wondering why you're singing it. You normally hate to sing your own songs."
        Justin shrugged slightly. "I just felt like it is all," he responded. "I heard Chris' loud shrieks of protest. Didn't we tell you not to slaughter him when you kicked his ass?"
        Lance laughed slightly. "Yeah, something like that. Joey and JC thought it was pretty funny though." Lance lounged easily against the wall beside the doorway, his hands in his pockets. Justin looked adorable, with that bandana on his head to keep his hair out of the way, and a pen smudge on his cheek, but Lance said nor acted in any special way. He could already feel the distance growing between himself and Justin, and neither was stopping it. Lance wondered if they shouldn't. Their lives could finally go back to normal, he mused.
        Justin hadn't had a problem sleeping yet, and Lance was... Well, Lance was taking a nap.
        "I bet they did," Justin agreed, sighing. He closed the notebook. "So what're you up to?"
        Lance shrugged. "I was going to go sleep when I heard you singing, so I thought I'd pop in and say a quick hello and goodbye."
        Justin grinned. "Well then hello and goodbye back."
        Lance grinned back and pushed off the wall, going into the bedroom area.
        "Sleep well, Lance!" Justin called after him, and Lance waved a hand back at him over his head before dropping down into his bed and closing the curtain that separated his bed from the rest of the world.
        Lance stared at the closed curtain for a while as he laid down, and then up at the bottom of JC's bunk, where he had pictures of all the guys, his friends, and his family taped up. But mostly pictures of the guys. His eyes landed on a picture of himself and Justin, their arms wrapped around each other, grinning. They had gotten so close, Lance thought, and then they just started to drift apart.
        It was sad to lose a relationship like that, and Lance closed his eyes, throwing his arm over them as he tried to block out the rest of the world.

        "Thank god," Justin sighed, dropping his bags onto the floor. Lance arched an eyebrow at him as he claimed the other bed, setting his bags against the wall. "I'm so tired!" Justin moaned, flopping back onto the bed.
        Lance eyed him, then laughed. "You've done nothing but sleep all day! How can you be tired?"
        "I just am," Justin sighed. "What time is the show tomorrow?"
        "8."
        Justin made a face. "And what're we doing tonight?"
        "Sleeping."
        Justin smiled dreamily. "That sounds nice, doesn't it?"
        Lance eyed him warily. "You okay, Curly?"
        "Fine," Justin admonished with a wave of his hand. "Just tired."
        Lance shrugged and nodded. "Well, I'm going to go watch a movie with JC. Wanna come?"
        Justin shook his head and waved his hand. "You go ahead. I'm just going to crash here."
        Lance stared at Justin's face, trying to memorize the beautiful face before him, then nodded. "Alright. I'll be back later. Don't stay up."
        "Yes Mommy," Justin teased, his eyes still closed. "Don't forget your key."
        "That's Joey worthy," Lance teased back, snatching the keycard off the dresser and hesitating only a second with a backwards glance over his shoulder as he exited the room and walked over to JC's, thinking about how before Justin would have either demanded Lance stay, or gone with him.
        Lance couldn't believe he actually missed that.
        "Hey Lansten!" JC carolled as he opened the door. "I've narrowed it down to 'Die Mommy Die' and 'The Westridge Game.'"
        "The Westridge Game," Lance responded immediately. "The last thing I need to do to poor Justin is wake him up in the middle of the night with my terrified, girly screaming from a nightmare."
        JC laughed and chose the number on the tv before speaking casually. "I did notice that you and Justin haven't been spending very much time together," he commented. "Hardly at all, actually. And you sit at opposite ends of anyplace you're at. Wanna explain?"
        Lance's heart skipped, but he shrugged. "We're not permanently attached at the hip, JC," Lance reminded. "And we're just friends."
        JC frowned slightly. "Lance, you two are hurting each other. Even I can see that. You keep giving him longing looks, he keeps giving you longing looks... How can you two be the only ones that don't see it?"
        It was Lance's turn to frown. "We're fine, JC, but thank you for your concern."
        JC sighed and settled back onto the bed. "If you need me, call," JC ordered.
        Lance saluted him, and then grinned. "I'll be fine, JC," Lance promised, getting more comfortable in the bed.
        JC didn't answer.

        Lance yawned, finished tucking an asleep JC into bed, and then left, stretching as he walked across the hall to his and Justin's room. He opened the door quietly, so as to not wake up Justin, and shut it softly.
        He crept into the room, changed as silently as possible, and then caught sight of the way Justin looked in the moonlight and stopped, staring. He was so astonished by his best friends' beauty that he forgot to breathe, and when he remembered, he quickly climbed into his own bed, rolling over away from Justin, closing his eyes and trying to concentrate on breathing. It wasn't until that moment that Lance realized just how badly he was aching for Justin, and now that he knew, he felt like crying.
        Lance pursed his lips and stiffled the tears that silently slipped down his cheeks.

        "Wake up!"
        Lance was suddenly pounced on into wakefulness, and he jumped as he sat up quickly, looking straight at Justin's excited blue eyes.
        "Are you okay?" Lance gasped, horrified.
        Justin shot him a puzzled look. "Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?"
        Lance reached out and smacked Justin on the back of the head. "If you ever wake me up like that again and nothing's wrong, I'll personally murder you myself!"
        Justin hissed unhappily and rubbed the back of his head. "I have good news, for your information," he snapped, glaring at Lance. "Though I'm not sure I should tell you now."
        Lance glared warningly at him.
        "Okay, okay, I'll tell you." Justin's excitement grew. "Britney's coming to tour here! She's on her bus right now, just outside the city! Can you believe we have a cross over?!"
        Lance was thinking about strangling Justin. "You woke me up to tell me that?"
        Justin pouted. "I think it's great news," he exclaimed, his hands on his hips.
        Lance was going to strangle him. "It is great news, Justin, now go away. I was sleeping."
        Justin's eyes narrowed. "We're meeting in JC's room for breakfast in an hour," he told Lance cooly. "The shower's all yours. I'm going to Joey's."
        "Fine." Lance shrugged uncaringly, their eyes locked. He wanted to hurt Justin for being so excited about Britney's arrival, and for that, he wanted to hurt himself. But Justin was glaring back, and he shoved off of Lance's bed, disappearing angrily out of the room.
        Lance thought about going after him, suddenly very contriteful, but then went into the bathroom to try and wash away the already forming bad day.

        "There you are!" JC carolled happily as Lance entered the room. "What took so long?"
        Justin was sitting in the arm chair by himself, making it perfectly clear he didn't want any company, not that Lance had planned on joining him anyway. Chris and Joey were sprawled out on the floor, happily munching on their breakfast and laughing at the stupid people on tv. JC was sitting on the bed, crosslegged, his finished breakfast beside the bed.
"Had to primp," Lance yawned, flopping down beside JC on the bed and putting his head in JC's lap.
        "Tired?" JC teased, laughing.
        "Uh huh," Lance answered, closing his eyes.
        "Did we stay up too late last night?" JC asked, concerned. "Sorry about that."
        Lance waved his hand to push aside JC's concern. "Don't worry about it. It was fun. And it wasn't that late."
        JC laughed. "Then how about tonight we watch an action film?"
        "It's a date," Lance yawned, his eyes still closed. A couple of seconds later there was a banging sound as the front door was yanked open and hit the wall, and Lance's eyes flew open just in time to see Justin's chair emptied, and the last bit of the door slamming shut.
        "Did you two have a lover's quarrel?" Chris teased. "He's been cranky all morning."
        "Britney's coming; he should be thrilled," Lance drolled.
        "He's never happy when you two fight," Joey commented, never turning from the tv. Lance stared at him. "He gets really cranky and he won't talk to anyone until you two resolve it, so for our sakes, will you please just go apologize? I don't care if it was your fault or not."
        "We didn't fight," Lance objected. "He woke me up to tell me that Britney was coming, I was cranky and told him to get out, and he went to your place."
        That caught Joey's attention. "My place?" he repeated.
        Lance reguarded Joey evenly. "That's what he said."
        Joey shook his head slowly. "Justin wasn't with me."
        Lance stared at Joey for only a half a second longer before rolling out of the bed. "I'll see you guys later," he told them without pausing to look back as he went to his room. He slid the keycard in and opened the door to see Justin laying on his bed on his back, his arm thrown over his eyes.
        "Wanna tell me what's going on?" Lance asked, sitting on the edge of his own bed.
        Justin shrugged, never letting the arm leave his eyes. "Not really. There's nothing to tell. I don't want to talk right now."
        Lance sighed. "Fine. We'll sit here in silence until you storm out angrily."
        That got Justin up. He glared forcefully at Lance, who had never seen those eyes look like that directed at him before, and it hurt. Badly. "Why don't we just cut to the chase?" Justin snapped, snatching his key from the desk and going to the door.
        "Woah!" Lance shouted, sliding inbetween Justin and the door at the last second. Justin paused and took a step back. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
        "I'm going."
        "Where? To 'Joey's' again?" Lance arched an eyebrow at him.
        "I went for a walk."
        "Justin, don't go mad," Lance sighed, slumping back against the door and looking past Justin's shoulder to the window.
        "Fine. Then I'll just go." Justin reached for the handle again, and Lance once more blocked the move, now angry.
        "What's the matter with you?" Lance hissed. "God, I'm sorry that I'm not jumping up and down because Britney's coming! Would you like me to dedicate tonight's concert to her? Would that make you happier?"
        Confusion touched Justin's eyes. "Britney?" he repeated.
        Lance threw his hands up in the air. "I give up!" he exclaimed. "You stay, I'm going." He turned and jerked the door open, hearing the satisfactory slam as it shut behind him. He wasn't sure where he was going to go, but now he was the one that needed a walk.
        Lance wandered around the city... Charlotte, South Carolina, with two body guards following him. It was a pretty city, Lance mused. And the southern accents were really sweet. And there were some fine looking women running around, and they were all checking him out.
        Lance sighed drearily. He'd be enjoying this much more if Joey was there to purposefully stare back. Or if Justin was there to roll his eyes and tell Lance he could do much better. Justin never liked anybody Lance was interested in. If Lance liked her, it didn't matter how perfect she was, Justin didn't like her. The only girl they agreed on was Britney, and Lance had a feeling that that was because she was very clearly Justin's, and Justin knew that Lance and Britney were just friends, otherwise Justin probably would kick Lance's ass.
        Lance's hand formed into a fist. Of course he had to think about Justin, he growled to himself. The best parts of his life were tied directly into Justin.
        With another deep sigh Lance turned and looked for a taxi. He was tired of walking, and he wanted to go back to the hotel. It took a little while, but Lance finally found one, and along with his body guards, traveled back to the hotel. Lance remained silent, and his body guards took note of his silence and said nothing. Normally Lance was good friends with his body guards, but when he got into moods like these--and it wasn't often--no one spoke to him until he spoke first.
        Lance paid the cab driver and walked glumly into the hotel, not looking forward to going back to Justin so soon. Though... As Lance studied the clock, he nearly gasped when he discovered it was 4:30. He had a half an hour to get to the arena... 45 minutes away!
        "Where did the time go?" Lance howled at his body guards, who exchanged a look but said nothing. Lance gave them a worried look and ran to the front desk. "I need a cab. Taxi. Limo. Whatever you have right now!"
        "Uh," the teller, obviously flustered, shuffled through her papers. "There's a van sir, right out front, if you want to just tell the driver your destination--"
        "Thank you!" Lance shouted over his shoulder as he took of running. His body guards were right behind him, and with a rushed cry Lance told the driver where he had to be... And quickly.
        "God god god god god," Lance repeated, leaning his head down to his hands, and his elbows on his knees as he rocked back and forth. "I am so dead, I am so dead, I am so dead. Where did the time go? Oh god, oh god, oh god. I am so dead."
        "It's not like they can fire you," the driver piped up. "You're Lance Bass of Nsync, right? They aren't Nsync without you. What's the worst that'll happen?"
        "I'll have a check in!" Lance moaned. "I'll be forced to call Johnny at the designated time every concert day for a month!"
        "And if you don't?"
        Lance sighed. "They fine me under contract."
        "Well let's make sure you're not late then, okay?" The driver winked at Lance and the next thing they knew, they were flying and weaving in and out of traffic. Lance actually said a little prayer, and next to him, he saw his body guards doing the same.
        "Sir, I'm going to have to ask that you slow down. Mr. Bass' life--" House began.
        "Shut it, House," Lance ordered. "We've got to get there quickly, I don't care at what cost."
        "Sir--" House objected.
        "No!" Lance barked, then immediately reprimanded himself. "House, I'm sorry. It's just that I'm so late... And you know how much I hate being put under check in!"
        House considered the options very carefully before sighing and saying, "Just please be careful," he begged the driver, who waved him down.
        Lance flashed a grin at House, and then heard his cell phone go off. "Yeah?" he asked, holding tightly to the seat with his other hand.
        "Lansten? Are you alright?" JC's concerned voice came back at him.
        "Yup. Why?"
        "Because you're about to be late. You've got ten minutes to get here."
        "Yeah, I'm going to be late," Lance groaned. "Damn it, I really, really hate check in!"
        JC sighed. "Lance, where are you?"
        "I'm--oof!" Lance was thrown into the side of the car as the driver took a particularly brutal swerve.
        "Lance? What's wrong?" JC sounded panicked. "Lance? Lance! Answer me!" In the back, Lance could barely make out Justin's alarmed, "What's going on?" and the other's asking JC what was happening.
        Lance brought the phone back to his mouth. "Ow, yeah, JC. I'm okay."
        "What happened?"
        "Driver swerved, I was thrown to the side a bit. No big deal." Lance grunted as he touched where the seatbelt had practically torn into his side.
        "What's wrong?" JC asked worriedly.
        "Nothing," Lance said again, stressing the word. "I'm fine."
        "Then why did you make that sound?"
        "What sound?"
        "That sound that says, 'I'm in a lot of pain right now and I'm not going to do whatever it was I did before again.'"
        Lance's jaw fell, and for a moment he forgot how to speak. "You--I--How--Damn, JC!"
        JC laughed slightly. "What can I say? You're my buddy! Now, are you alright?"
        "Yes, I'm fine." Lance heard a beep. "Shit, I'm about to lose the battery. Bye JC!"
        "Hurry! Bye Lance!"
        Lance ended the phone call and sighed, leaning down and resting his head in his hands. "I'm so dead," he muttered. "I am so dead."
        Eventually the driver got them to the arena, 20 minutes late, and Lance literally threw the money at him--a 20 dollar tip for his speed--and ran into the building to the back. He went straight for the Nsync toyroom and threw the door open, only to be confronted with six very stoic faces.
        "You're late," Johnny stated flatly.
        Lance gasped to catch his breath, a hand on his side to protect it. It really, really hurt, and the running hadn't helped at all. "I know. Can I have an aspirin?"
        "What's wrong?" JC asked, standing immediately to retrieve the medicine.
        "Nothing. Gimme." Lance held his free hand out as he slumped back against the wall, still panting for air. JC exchanged surprised looks with the others, and handed Lance first the pills, which he popped and swallowed easily, then guzzled half of the water bottle washing it down.
        "What is wrong?" Johnny asked, concerned.
        Lance waved him down. "I know, I'm late. Sorry. I completely lost track of time."
        "I'll say!" Chris snorted from the couch beside Joey. Justin was sitting by himself on the love seat, staring up at Lance with a blank expression. Johnny and Robyn--the makeup artist--were both standing against the other wall, Robyn's toolkit spread out waiting for Lance. "You've been gone for 4 hours!"
        Lance sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I know. I had no idea it got so late." He tried a suck-up approach. "I bought lots of cool things, though."
        "Come sit," JC ordered, taking Lance by the arm and putting a hand on his side to lead him to the makeup chair. As soon as he touched his side, however, Lance cried out and smacked JC's hand away, to all of their horror and shock.
        "Sorry," Lance mumbled. "My side's sore."
        "So I see," JC drawled. "From?"
        "Cramp," Lance lied immediately. "Running."
        JC stared at him hard, but Lance wasn't known to lie, so after a hesitation he put his hand on Lance's shoulder and walked the blond boy to the makeup chair, where Robyn immediately set to work. The other guys started to get into their costumes.
        "Check in," Johnny told Lance.
        Lance sighed. "Okay."
        Johnny patted Lance on the shoulder. "There's worst things that could happen."
        Lance didn't answer.
        "Haha, JC, very funny, give it back."
        Lance glanced in the mirror to see Justin holding his hand out expectantly for his top hat that went with his marionette outfit. JC was wearing it, parading around and jumping up on the couch, parodying Justin.
        "Better do it," Joey warned. "Justin's grumpy today."
        "Shut up, Joe," Justin snapped, then turned back to JC. "Give. Now."
        JC arched an eyebrow. "Lansten? Do you think I should give it back?"
        Lance sighed. "Does he want it back?"
        "I think so," JC answered after a thoughtful pause.
        "Then give it back to him before he spears you." Lance's eyes met Robyn's, and in confusion he studied her. She was giving him the strangest look, and it left him completely bewildered.
        Justin cleared his throat loudly, and Lance broke the eye contact to look at him in the mirror. Justin wasn't even looking at him, yet Lance had a feeling that was directed at him.
        Robyn continued to look thoughtful as she went back to work on his makeup. To his horror, she kept glancing from Lance to Justin, and when she was done, he stood up quickly and went for his costume, changing into it hurriedly and joining JC on the couch.
        "Let's go hit it," JC sighed drearily. "We gotta practice."
        They all stood and walked out to the stage, Lance noting Justin's careful avoidance of him, and unable to help but feel hurt about it. Not to mention anger. Justin had no right to be acting that way, and Lance was thinking about telling him when Ricky, their stage manager, came over and clapped his hands together.
        "Wonderful! We're all ready?"
        They all nodded, and Lance sighed, following the others as they all went out onto the stage, getting in their positions. Lance and Justin were the last two to get hauled into the air, and Lance snuck a look at Justin, who was staring blankly at the ground. Discouraged, Lance looked out at where the audience would be, and sighed. To his surprise, the speakers picked it up.
        "Is this on?" Lance asked softly, hearing his own voice echo through out the stage. He arched an eyebrow in surprise. "I guess that answers that question." He looked at Ricky. "This shouldn't be on, right? Or did I miss something?"
        "We just wanted to hear your sexy voice!" Chris called.
        Lance sighed. "Thanks, Chris. Next time I need a self esteem boost, I'll know who to call."
        "I only complimented your voice! Not you!" Chris shouted back.
        Lance sighed again. "Okay. Then next time I'm feeling a little low and think I need another kick, I'll come to you."
        "Okay!" Chris agreed.
        Lance turned to Ricky. "Can we turn this off?" he asked, gesturing to the mics as the stage hands strapped him into the harnesses.
        Ricky was already working on it, and listened in his own head set. "Now try it," Ricky told him.
        "Okay," Lance said, still hearing his voice echo. He gasped in pain when the harness went around his waist, his hand flying to his side. The sound echoed through the arena, and he felt like every eye was on him, but he was too concerned with the pain to pay attention to them momentarily. He'd seen a dark bruise forming when he'd been changing, and it wasn't even done developing fully.
        "Are you alright?" the stage hand asked worriedly, looking in confusion at the harness. "It shouldn't have—"
        'It's fine," Lance interrupted, pursing his lips and forcing a smile. "Really. I'm just a spaz sometimes."
        "That's for sure!" Chris called.
        The stage hand felt along the harness again to make sure nothing sharp was stabbing him, and then again wrapped it—carefully—around Lance's waist. He stiffened and made a small grunt, but he smiled again and nodded. The girl was studying him, and then she shrugged. "You're good to go up," she told him, after securing a few more locks. She nodded at the man who pulled everyone up, and Lance was on his way. He gave another gasp of pain when the harness tore into his side, and he was suddenly on his decent.
        "I'm fine," Lance said through gritted teeth into the headset, which was still on. There was a hesitation, and then he slowly started to go up. Lance closed his eyes against the harsh pain, trying his best not to whimper or cry out. The harness rested exactly where the seatbelt had, and the pain was searing. Lance felt like a knife was trying to cut him into two pieces.
        "What's wrong?" JC hissed as soon as Lance was up. Lance's eyes opened slowly, and he saw all the other guys staring at him worriedly, even Justin.
        "Nothing," Lance snapped. "I'm fine. Let's just do this."
        JC looked ready to argue, but the curtain—their picture—was up, and they were ready. The curtain went down, and the boys hung their limply, as was scripted. The "I've got no strings" song started, and then they were lowered down. Lance nearly cried with relief when the pressure on the harness was gone. They did their few opening moves, and then froze as they were lifted up into the air after removing the harnesses that supported them in someplace other than their waist.
        Lance cried out very, very loudly.
        The next second all the boys were back on the ground, Lance was on his knees clutching his side, nearly in tears from the pain.
        "What the hell?!" JC shouted, and the music was gone immediately as he knelt down beside Lance, who barely heard him. He was in so much pain… It was like he was being cut into two…
        Strong hands were ripping at the harness around Lance, actually tearing it off, and then before Lance could protest, his hands were moved and his shirt was being pulled up.
        "Holy fuck," Justin hissed, staring at Lance's side. He waited until the other guys had all seen it, gasping when they did so, and then let the shirt fall. "Lance? What the hell happened to you?"
        Lance's eyes were closed as he tried to steady himself through the pain, but that took all of his concentration and he couldn't answer.
        "You mentioned getting thrown to the side of the car," JC piped up, his voice much more gentler than Justin's. "Is that what happened? That's why you were holding your side earlier? The seatbelt?"
        Lance nodded, and finally opened his eyes, still panting slightly for air. "Sorry," he breathed apologetically, looking at his friends. "I thought that I'd be okay—"
        "Don't," Justin ordered, reaching out and hugging Lance to him, not caring who saw. "Are you alright?"
        "Yeah," Lance promised, swallowing back his pain. "I'm okay."
        "Yeah, you said that a minute ago, and now you can't even stand," Chris pointed out. Lance looked up at him while Justin glared, still cradeling Lance, and Chris turned to Ricky, who was standing there in concern. "We're coming out from the floor tonight," Chris told him.
        Ricky nodded while Lance tried to protest.
        "Don't even bother," Justin told him conversationally. "You're not going back up there."
        Lance thought about arguing, but from the look Justin and the others were giving him, and from the way his side just ached thinking about it, he realized it would be a bad idea. Reluctantly Lance dropped his eyes and sighed, allowing himself the small, fleeting luxury of leaning against Justin for a half a second before pulling away and attempting to stand. JC immediately reached out for him, but Lance swatted at his hand and shakily stood on his own two feet, unsure of how he planned on doing the dances tonight, with all the bending and such.
        "Body double?" Lance suggested, gripping his side protectively with his hand.
        Johnny was there, holding his arm out for Lance. "Better," he told him. "Come with me."
        Lance went towards Johnny, and when the guys started to follow, Johnny held up a hand to stop them. "Not this time," he said.
        "No way," Justin refused immediately. "We go or he doesn't."
        "Justin," Lance admonished automatically. Justin reluctantly met Lance's eyes. "I'll be right back."
        Justin's eyes narrowed, but he let them go. Lance let Johnny help him to the room Johnny was using as his office, and gratefully sank down into the chair while Johnny reached inside his bag, pulled out a bottle of pills, and held one out to Lance.
        Lance stared at the large white pill first, and then Johnny. "What the hell is that?" he asked quietly.
        "That is a form of meth, Lance Bass, and if you want to be able to preform in the show tonight, you'll take it."
        Lance glared up at him coldly. "You expect me to take drugs? A show's that important to you?"
        Johnny glared at him dangerously. "It's that important to you," he told him darkly. "I'll have you suspended and fined if you don't preform in the show tonight. I'm giving you a way out of the pain, and you're not taking it. That's willingly not participating in a show, and that's a breach of contract. I can also fine the other guys for allowing you to do this, because you know that they'll rile behind you."
        Lance stared at him in disbelief. "You can't—" he started.
        Johnny smirked. "Yes," he said deliberately. "I can."
        "But I'll just tell the truth, and you'll be fired—"
        "Managers do it all the time." Johnny held out the pill again, as well as a glass of water. "Take it," he directed gently. "Just until your side is better, and only for concerts. I'm not a pusher, Lance, I just watch out for my boys." He paused. "If you won't do it for me, for yourself, or for your career, do it for the other guys."
        Lance stared at him furiously, snatched the pill and threw it back with a slug of the water before slamming it down on the desk.
        Almost immediately, the drug started taking affect. Lance had a tingly sensation going through his body, and he felt light… Like when he went to the dentist's for a cavity filling and he got the gas. It was actually a slightly pleasant feeling, and as he gingerly touched his side, he found that it didn't hurt. He also found that he could think clearly, and that he had all of his motor skills perfectly in tact. For the first time in what felt like almost forever, Lance could concentrate on one thought. They were no longer flying around his mind, but now, going at a slow enough pace that he could concentrate on them.
        And they were all about wanting Justin.
        Lance paused, impressed. So that was what he had been thinking the whole time. He didn't know that. He turned to Johnny. "What're we going to tell the others?" he asked.
        "That I gave you a pain killer… A couple of prescription Motrin's that I got for my arm, and you're feeling much better."
        Lance considered this explaination, then shrugged. "Okay," he agreed. "But I still don't like you."
        Johnny smiled slightly. "Yes you do," he assured him softly, and Lance was left to ponder that as Johnny went to the door and opened it. "Ready?" he asked.
        Lance shrugged and followed him back to the stage. His side didn't hurt… His mind wasn't spinning anymore… Lance kinda liked this drug. Some foreign part of his mind told him that it was wrong, but he stamped on it. He could concentrate now.
        Lance and Johnny rejoined the group, and they were all staring worriedly at Lance and Johnny. Lance, however, only had eyes for Justin. Now that his thoughts were clear, he admitted to himself just how attracted to his best friend he was… How much he wanted him; wanted to be with him. Lance smiled warmly at Justin, taking in his beauty, and Justin smiled back weakly, studying him. Justin seemed wary of the sudden transformation.
        "Are you okay?" JC asked Lance finally, studying him.
        Lance nodded, waving his hand up to the harnesses in the air. "Johnny gave me a couple of those Motrin's he uses for his arm pain, and now I'm not feeling anything. I'm willing to go back up there."
        "No way!" Justin barked immediately. "Don't be crazy, Lance. Even if it doesn't hurt, you could still hurt yourself."
        Lance waved a hand at him. "I'm fine," he insisted, then pressed on his side without flinching. "See?"
        The guys exchanged looks, and Lance waited patiently for them to come to a decision.
        "I suppose we could try it," JC finally relented. His voice became firm and he pointed a finger at Lance. "At the first sign of pain you shout though, got it?"
        Lance saluted JC, and hesitantly they were all strapped into their harnesses, until it was just Justin and Lance. Johnny was gone, backstage someplace, and Justin leaned over to whisper, "Are you sure you're alright?"
        Lance smiled up at him. "You're my best friend, Justin," he told him, focusing on that thought in his mind delightfully. He could focus!
        Justin turned and faced him head on, studying him closely. "What's going on?" Justin asked softly.
        "Nothing," Lance snapped, angry that Justin hadn't returned the affection.
        Justin reached out to put a hand on Lance's arm, but Lance ripped away and went to his own harness, helping himself get ready. Damn Justin, Lance thought to himself. He bitched about not being told he was Lance's best friend, and then when Lance told him, he didn't say anything back!
        The stagehands nervously worked on Lance, and he was slowly brought into the air, testing his side, but he was fine and gestured with annoyance to be brought up faster. He really was enjoying this drug, even if it was bad. He liked concentrating. It was fun. Nice. Refreshing.
        "I've got no strings" started, and the guys were brought down. They did their opening moves, and then froze as they were hauled into the air. Lance held his position perfectly, unable to believe that he hadn't been able to do this earlier. He scoffed at himself and then, as they were set back down, started into the moves.
        When their practice run was over, the guys went backstage to go refresh themselves. Lance went to go rummage through his bag for his favorite ring, and he gave a start when he heard Justin behind him.
        "What's up?" Lance greeted, returning to his search.
        Justin studied him. "I was just coming to make sure you were okay," he told Lance carefully.
        "I'm great." Lance gave a cry of triumph as he found his ring and stood, facing off against Justin. He paused and studied his best friend, searching his eyes. "You have such beautiful eyes," Lance told him softly.
        Justin blushed slightly. "So do you," he returned, his voice calm. "But Lance, I have a feeling that isn't you saying this stuff; it's whatever drug Johnny gave you."
        Lance waved Justin down. "It's not. I just noticed your eyes and thought I'd pay you a compliment." Lance shrugged and moved past Justin. "If you don't want it—"
        "That's not what I meant," Justin argued softly, reaching out and taking Lance's arm. "Look. I also wanted to apologize for this morning. I don't know what came over me. I acted like a baby, and I'm sorry."
        Lance paused to try and think about what had happened that morning, but he found he couldn't remember, and he didn't care, so he just accepted the apology. What he did care about was Justin's hand on his arm, and Lance carefully reached up and took Justin's hand, interlacing their fingers, watching as Justin swallowed and looked from their now joined hands to Lance's eyes.
        Lance smiled at Justin, thinking about how beautiful his best friend truly was. "You are very attractive, Justin, do you know that?"
        Justin flushed, but he frowned as well. "Lance—" he began.
        "I mean it," Lance insisted, taking a small step forward, until his body was less than an inch from Justin's. His voice dropped several degrees. "Very, very attractive."
        Justin seemed to be frozen, and so Lance capitalized, reaching up to place his lips on Justin's.
        The door flew open seconds before the kiss took place, and Lance quickly stepped away, making it look as though they'd just been hugging.
        "There you two are!" Joey carolled. "We have to go have a meeting in the toyroom, so move your bums!" Then Joey disappeared.
        Lance looked up at Justin, who looked like he was still in shock. "To be continued," Lance taunted, walking out the door without looking backwards. He smiled smugly as he walked down to the toyroom, knowing full well the affect he'd had on Justin Timberlake's psychie, and liking it.
        "Where's Justin?" Chris asked when Lance flopped onto the couch beside him.
        "I dunno," Lance answered, waving his hand over his head. "He was with me a second ago."
        "Well he doesn't really need to be here," Johnny interrupted. "I just wanted to wish you guys all luck, and to tell you that we've got another show scheduled for Saturday night. We're going to be doing a double headliner with Britney Spears, you guys last, of course. Right here."
        The guys were all excited and cheered. This was good news. Justin would be thrilled, Lance thought, then darkly remembered that if Britney was around, Justin was probably going to want to spend a lot of time with her. Lance shrugged. That was fine. He could spend his time however he wanted. Lance would just go find his own chick to drape himself over.
        That resolved, Lance joined in the festivities once again.



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