Pretty, pretty green eyes blinked at the camera. Joey had Lance in a headlock and he was giggling. Not laughing heartily in that deep bass voice of his, not even chuckling amusedly as he was prone to do these days. No, this Lance was actually giggling like a little girl. Bright sparkling eyes, cheeks flushed, so happy to be included in something. Justin smiled on camera and off, barely noticing the way Lance looked shyly in his direction as he walked into view.
The next shot was of the group performing in some dive in Germany. So many nights they’d spent just like this one, screaming girls pressed much too close to the stage for anyone’s safety, free beer after the show, and the certainty of getting some action if you wanted. Justin watched his younger self dance with complete self-assuredness, while Lance was shuffling awkwardly at the far back of the stage. Justin had watched footage like this a million times over the years, but this time he caught something he’d never seen before. Rewind, pause… there it was again. Lance was staring at him, watching him dance, licking his lips a little. Interesting, Justin thought.
The last scene on this tape was shot in a hotel, just the guys goofing around, all sprawled out on one bed. Arms and legs tangled, fighting and wrestling like little puppies. And there was Lance again, watching Justin with careful eyes. Lance hanging back like he had in those days, trying to be part of the group but not completely succeeding. A predatory look, one that Justin hadn’t even known Lance possessed until after the whole Lou debacle. Eyes trained on him, waiting for the right second, and then suddenly he reached out and rubbed Justin’s side. It was actually more of a caress, Justin thought. Justin on-screen was tickling JC, then getting in a fight with Chris over a kick to the head. Justin on-screen had no idea that Lance was trying to feel him up. Justin on-screen wasn’t hard at the thought, either. That kid has a lot over me,
“Rehearsing is a bitch,” Justin mumbled under his breath, trying to get the newest sequence down just right.
“It’s all part of the job, J,” JC reminded him, spinning and twirling a few feet away. The others were taking a break from the practice session.
“Yeah, well, the job’s just not what it used to be. Shit,” he cursed, as he tripped over his own feet and landed in a pile at JC’s feet.
JC helped him up. “What are you saying? You wanna quit or something?”
“No, no, I’m not saying anything like that at all. I don’t want to quit *NSYNC. I just… I miss the old days. I miss the old us.”
“What do you mean?”
“Come on, Jayce, I know that you’ve got to have noticed how much we’ve all changed over the years, some of us more than others. We’re not the same people we were when we started. And I miss that innocence, that joy we used to have for… well, everything.”
“Justin, we still do. I still love performing, singing and dancing. I mean, the day I don’t anymore is the day I’m going to walk out on this, no offense.”
Justin sighed. “That’s not it, C. Just forget I said anything.”
Chris, Joey, and Lance walked in with group’s latest choreographer. “Can we hurry this along? I have a very important meeting in two hours,” Lance said.
“Of course. We gotta do whatever Mr. Hollywood says,” Justin murmured quietly.
“What did you say, Justin?” Lance asked, turning toward him with an angry look.
“Nothing. Just… I’m ready, let’s get started before you have to leave.”
Justin danced his heart out, trying to push aside his angry thoughts towards Lance. Watching everyone in the mirror, he noticed the vacant way Lance stared, at nothing and no one in particular. He remembered the times in the far past he had caught Lance’s eye in a mirror at a practice and they’d shared a secret grin. He remembered the times when Lance wasn’t too busy to get a pizza and beer after a show, when they had all sat around and watched movies or something else totally mundane, content just to be friends and to be in this singing group together. And now, it just wasn’t like that anymore. How could JC not see it?, Justin thought. He couldn’t remember the last time they were all together when it wasn’t required of them. Sure, they were still friends, he still talked to and saw at least one or two of the other guys every day, but it just wasn’t the same somehow. And he blamed Lance.
Out of the five of them, Lance had changed the most over the years. He’d gone from being quiet and reserved, almost to the point of painful shyness, to needing to be the center of attention. The old Lance never would have interrupted one of his bandmates during an interview, would never have done something to overshadow them, but it was an all-too-frequent occurrence these days, in Justin’s opinion. He’d tried to say something to Joey one day, about how they just shouldn’t let Lance talk, and Joey accused him of being jealous and not being able to share the spotlight. That had hurt. Justin was perfectly capable and willing to share the spotlight. He didn’t really like being the heartthrob, the focal point of the group. He just didn’t want to share it with Lance, not the present-day incarnation of him. The old Lance had been sweet and thoughtful and… damn it, Justin, admit it, he’d been in love with you and you were too stupid to notice it then. Well, he noticed it now, and he was going to do something about it. He knew that sweet Southern boy had to be hidden inside somewhere and he had to make him come out again. Or else.
“What are you doing here?” he asked belligerently.
“Just came to visit a friend. Is that so weird?” Justin asked, before realizing it had been months since he had been to Lance’s home and probably close to a year since he’d been there without one of the other guys.
Lance shrugged. “Okay, let’s go inside then.” He gestured at a couch in the living room and headed off to the kitchen. “What do you want to drink?” he called out.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” Justin answered.
Lance came back carrying two glasses of rum and coke. He sat one down in front of Justin, saying, “In case you change your mind.”
Justin shook his head. “I’m fine,” he repeated.
“Suit yourself.” Lance downed half of his drink in one swig. “So how long have you been sitting outside waiting for me?”
“How long were you gone? And where have you been?”
“I was gone until I got back a few minutes ago. And I was out. How long were you waiting?”
Justin thought for a second. “’Bout three hours, give or take an hour. I don’t know. I think I dozed off. Where were you?”
“I told you, I was out.” A steely gaze was shot in Justin’s direction. It would have fazed anyone else, and might have fazed Justin too, on a different day. But he had a mission today and nothing was going to get in his way. He sidled across the couch until he was right up against Lance, legs touching. He reached out and took Lance’s drink from his hand.
“Where… were… you? Answer me. Now.” Apparently Justin’s eyes knew how to be unwavering as well. Lance’s eyes tried to hide from the too frank gaze, but they couldn’t.
“I was at a club, okay? Had a little to drink, danced a little, nothing to get your panties in a wad over. Nothing that’s going to get me in the tabloids or anything. Then again, that’s more your territory, isn’t it?”
Justin refused to take the bait, reminding himself that he was here to discuss and correct Lance’s shortcomings, not his own. “Did you get laid?” he hissed.
Shock registered deep in his eyes for a brief second, then was replaced by the emotionless mask he always wore. “None of your business, Justin.”
“Do you want to?” The question was out of Justin’s mouth before he’d fully thought it through. Dammit, he thought, that wasn’t supposed to happen.
Lance laughed. It started as one of those slightly amused noises he was fond of making, but when Justin’s mouth found his jawline, it turned into a moan and then a giggle. Like a little girl, Justin thought, his tongue licking its way to the corner of Lance’s mouth.
“J, what the hell are you doing?” Lance questioned, even as his hands found their way under Justin’s shirt to the soft, soft skin there. He got no answer to his question, save a kiss that was anything but tentative. It’s like I planned this all along, Justin thought, then realized that maybe he had.
Justin’s fingers stroked the coarse hair around Lance’s belly button as Lance sucked on his neck. “Lance, what happened to you? What happened to all of us?” he questioned.
“We grew up, Justin. That’s all.” Lance tugged Justin’s shirt over his head and licked at a hardening nipple.
“No, that’s not it. That’s not it at all. I grew up. You… you changed.” Lance’s hand moved with exacting sureness over Justin’s erection, while Justin wriggled and tried to sit up. How the hell did I end up lying down?, Justin thought.
Being the stronger of the two, he finally won the power struggle and lay down on top of Lance. He eased the leather pants off, raising an eyebrow when he discovered Lance wasn’t wearing anything underneath them. Lance shrugged. “Easy access.”
“So you did get laid?” Justin paused, hovering over Lance’s crotch and barely breathing.
“No, nothing like that. Quick hand job in the bathroom, that’s all.”
Justin licked a swath up Lance’s dick, one quick, wet motion. A swift slurp around the head, then he said, “See, now that’s what I mean. You wouldn’t have done that in the past. You wouldn’t have dreamed of that.”
Lance snorted. “You have no idea what I dreamt of back then, Justin. None whatsoever.”
Justin sucked with a long, drawn-out motion, enthralled by the taste and feel of Lance inside his mouth. What the fuck?, Justin thought. Maybe we should have done this a long time ago. He brought Lance to the brink, to the point where he could almost feel liquid begin to drip down his throat, and stopped.
“I know you dreamt of this. Of me. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Lance tried to look disgusted. “Yeah, like that would have worked. Like the great Justin Timberlake would have even thought of being with the lowly Lance Bass.”
Justin shed his jeans and boxers quickly and stroked himself a few times. He lay down on top of Lance again and kissed him almost sweetly, rubbing their bodies together. “What is this, then? What are we doing?”
“The great Justin Timberlake is about to fuck the great Lance Bass, I think. I mean, I haven’t done this in the recent past, but I’m pretty sure this is how it goes.” Lance caressed Justin’s balls, and Justin thought of Lance caressing his side in the home video.
“No, no, it isn’t. I mean, I don’t want to fuck you, Lance. I’m not so great. I just… I want…” Justin kissed Lance and thrust into him at the same time.
“What do you want, Justin? What do you think this is going to accomplish, other than getting us both off? And, honestly, you need it. You’ve been pretty uptight lately.” Lance ran a hand down Justin’s back and stroked his ass lightly.
“I want you back, Lance. The real you. Not this fake Hollywood persona you’ve been indulging in lately. I want the sweet, kind, pure Lance that I met years ago back.”
Lance threaded his fingers through Justin’s sweaty curls and Justin plunged into him over and over again. He started to laugh again and burst out into giggles. Justin stroked him until he came, and did the same himself moments later.
Justin pulled out of Lance and tried to hold Lance’s body to his. Lance backed away. “No, Justin. That’s not going to happen.” The amused Lance was back. “You don’t get it, do you? This was all for you. I changed for you, so that you’d notice me. And in the process…”
“You lost me.”
Lance nodded. “And I figured out that I liked myself better this way. I have fun. I do what I want. I control me. Not you.” Lance shook his head ruefully. “If this had happened even a year ago, I would have welcomed you with open arms. I would have been beyond happy that you were showing interest in me. But now… sorry, J, but no way in hell.”
Justin felt tears welling up and willed them not to leave his eyes. “But what if I said I love you?”
“Then I’d tell you to get over it. The same thing you would have told me years ago. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it has to be.” Lance smiled sadly, the most real smile he’d given Justin in forever, and walked to the kitchen to refill his drink.
Justin dressed in a hurry, hastily pulling his clothes on, and all but ran out of Lance’s house. He climbed into the Navigator and cried, knowing that he was going to go home and jerk off to old home videos, knowing that his life would never be the same because of what could have been. Fucking irony, Justin thought. Gets you every time.