Pairing: Justin and Kevin
Words: locust; pyjamas; angelic; decoy


Hell was other people.

Not just Chris and JC and Joey and Lance.  Them, too, but they
weren't even the worst offenders, just the most present to blame. 
Steve and Trace.  Lonnie, Dre, the wardrobe people.  The make-up
people.  Johnny.  The stage manager.  Even the fucking fans.

Like a swarm of locusts, descending upon him, on his life, and they
were always touching him, always talking to him, always wanting
something, and some of them would probably die to make him happy,
but the only thing he wanted was to be *alone*.  Solitary.  No one
around.  No one calling him, or talking to him, or...

A flashbulb nearly blinded him.  Justin recoiled.

"Nice jammies!" the photographer yelled, and jumped down from the
bus window.

Justin looked down at his Power Ranger pyjamas.  Okay, so they were
something an eight-year-old would wear, but they were comfy, and a
gift from Chris, and wasn't he supposed to stay in touch with their
fan base?

He pulled the curtain shut over the window, but not before seeing
Lonnie trying to chase the guy down.  Good luck.  The photographer
was a third his size and had a nice headstart.  Not even safe in
the parking lot of a goddamn gas station.

JC had his headphones jammed over his ears.  Justin could hear the
jazz music coming from them.  He looked like he hadn't been to
sleep yet, from the litter of wadded up paper around him and the
empty coffee cups.  Chris was nowhere to be seen, which was fine
with Justin.  He didn't want to deal with him, and with the driver
off doing whatever, and JC oblivious, it was the closest thing he
was going to get to being alone.  Nirvana.

Nirvana with no Captain Crunch.  Justin shook the empty box.  What
the hell?  It'd been half-full the day before.  He checked the
cupboard.  Cinnamon Life?  Gone.  Wheaties?  Gone.  He eyed the box
of Grape Nuts, then decided he wasn't that desperate.  Pop Tarts? 
Missing.

They were all out of breakfast food.

Justin growled.  Oh, yeah.  Someone was going to pay for this.

He bet the Backstreet Boys didn't have to live like this.  Kevin,
for instance, with his own bus, probably had endless supplies of
edible breakfast treats that no one ever touched.  And with those
scary eyebrows, he could rule by fear.  Make people regret it when
they profaned the sanctity of his cereal.  *Somebody* certainly
should be paying.  But, no.  Justin was cute.  Sexy even, but still
the cute little baby of the group.  No one took him seriously when
he went on a rampage.

Clearly, there was something wrong with that, and things would have
to change, because he had no crunchy sugary goodness with which to
start off his day.

He growled again.

JC looked up, and remarked mildly, "If you're looking for your
cereal, Chris ate the last of it this morning."

He did, did he?  Justin's eyes narrowed.  Oh, yeah, Chris would
pay.

The bus door opened, and Chris bounded up the steps.  "Hey, hey,
hey, it's the fine Kirkpa--"

Justin barreled into him, knocked him down, sat on him, and noogied
his head.

"Hey!  What the heck do you think you're doing?  Clearly, the
angelic good looks are just a decoy for your evil side, huh?" 
Chris pushed Justin off, and stood up.

"You ate my cereal, you bastard."

"Okay, just supposing I did, what are you going to do, call me out
at dawn?  Because, you know, you're not usually up then, and even
when you are, you're pretty easy to outwit when you haven't had
your cereal--"

Justin charged him again.

Chris sidestepped, laughed, and held him off with an outstretched
arm.  "A little grumpy without our sugar fix, are we?"

Justin growled at him.  Chris wasn't any more impressed than JC had
been.

"Just a little, huh?  Lucky for me, I brought a peace offering with
which to soothe the savage beast."  Chris picked up a brown paper
grocery sack from the floor where he'd dropped it when Justin had
bowled him over, and pulled out a box of Captain Crunch.  "Behold,
the Grail!"

Justin snarled, snatched it from him, and stomped off to the
kitchen to have his breakfast in peace.  Alone, damnit.  Was it so
much to ask for?

Chris followed him, ruffled his hair and started putting the rest
of his purchases away.

Apparently, yes.

Justin poured the cereal in the bowl, then stared at it a moment. 
Something was missing.  "Hey!  Where's the milk?"