Pairing: Justin and Lance
Words: pot belly; fantasy novel; the Fine Kirkpatrick Ass


"You don't get it, man. You're totally my favorite person on earth.
It's like some pathetic fantasy novel," Lance says into the phone.
Justin laughs on the other end, and just the sound makes Lance
grin.

It's weird, talking to Justin. With everyone else, he's imagining
how they look on the phone. But he's never seen Justin, since they
live on opposite coasts. It's just this voice and the presence on
Lance's computer screen. Still, like he said, Justin's *totally*
his favorite person on the planet.

"I could totally be over forty with a pot belly and, like, nose
hair out to here."

"Well, yeah. But you could be, I dunno, Chris Kirkpatrick. Totally
hot, with the *Fine* Kirkpatrick Ass to match," Lance replies.

"It's not *that* fine," Justin retorts automatically.

"Ugh. Yes, it is," Lance says, making his voice all dreamy. "You
should see it in concert."

Justin makes a face. "You want I should set you up with him?" He
hits himself on the forehead. So not the kind of thing to say if he
wants to keep Lance as a friend who doesn't know who he really is.
"'Cause, like, you could write a letter to him and tell him his ass
is sweet and you wanna marry it and bring it presents."

"Nah. Hot ass, hot voice. But I've got you, what do I need some
famous guy -- who's probably a jerk, by the way -- for?

"Dunno. Maybe you're afraid of my middle-aged ass."

"How old are you?" Lance asks. He thinks that Justin's, like, a
couple years older than he is. College aged, like Lance is.

"Nineteen."

"Yeah, I thought something like that. I'm twenty," Lance admits. "I
turn twenty-one in a couple weeks."

"Ooh, an older man."

"Man, I totally thought you were older than me."

Justin snorts. "I don't get that a lot. 'Course, I look younger
than I am. But I've been working for a long time, and maybe that's
why I sound older. 'Cause you're still in school and I'm not."

"Yeah. Um, listen," Lance starts. He's staring at a couple of
tickets. "I got some tickets for my birthday. To a Kirkpatrick
concert." He swallows hard. "It's, um. It's in Orlando, like you
are, and I sort of wondered if maybe you'd like to go with me? As
my guest?"

"Um."

"You can, like, totally think about it for a while. Unless you're
busy. You're probably busy," Lance babbles.

"No, I'm not busy. That's the fourteenth, right? I had plans to see
a friend, but they're totally tentative. I just... I like talking
to you. I don't wanna meet you and then have it fall apart, y'know.
Us talking."

"I don't think it will. I like you too much to just stop talking to
you. I'd be really lonely."

"Okay, cool. Yeah, I'd love to go."  Justin's mind has been racing
frantically, trying to figure out a way he can go with Lance, not
give everything away and not insult Lance either.  "We can find
some place.  A restaurant maybe.  Listen.  I was planning on going
to the concert already.  That's why I know I have the time off." 
Which is true; Chris is expecting him there.  "I don't wanna be
insulting or anything, but my seats are probably better than the
ones you've got."  Not true, because he'd been planning on watching
from backstage.  But he can score some seats in the VIP section
easy enough and then his bodyguards won't give him hell about
stupid stunts like trying to sit with everyone else.  "If it's okay
with you, we can take those."  Justin crosses his fingers that
it'll be okay, because otherwise, he can't go.

"Are you sure?  If you were planning to go with someone else, we
can always meet after."

"No, I wasn't planning on meeting anyone.  I just..."  He grits his
teeth.  "I know someone in the band."

"You sly boy.  You're friends with that new drummer, aren't you?"
Lance teases.  "The really sexy one with the greasy hair and the
expression of perpetual stupidity..."

"Nah.  I'm friends with this college student who has a crush on the
Kirkpatrick ass."

Lance grins.  "Really?  Do you think he crushes you back?"

"Dude, I'm talking about you."

"Then I can guarantee that he crushes you back," Lance says
seriously.

"You... oh.  Wow.  That's... That's so totally amazing, Lance.  You
have no idea."

Lance grins stupidly up at the ceiling.  "Oh, I have an idea."

"No, you don't," Justin says seriously.  "We really have to meet
up.  The fourteenth is so far away!"

"I'll actually be done on the twelfth," Lance says tentatively.

"I gotta work through the twelfth.  I'm free the thirteenth
though," Justin offers.

"Here, lemme give you my hotel info."

"Cool."  Justin gets a piece of paper and writes it down.  "Maybe
if, y'know, you don't think I'm some kind of serial killer or
something, you can come stay at my place."

"Sure.  I mean, we should probably meet, so you can decide if I'm
hideous or not, and then decide.  But cool."

"Yeah, absolutely.  I don't want you to think... well, y'know.  No
pressure.  I'm just excited.  You'll probably figure out I'm an
asshole right away anyway."

"Mmm.  Ass..."

Justin snickers.

Lance laughs back.  "Okay, dude.  My phone card's about to run out. 
IM you later?"

"Got it."

"Cool.  Bye!"

"Bye!"  Justin hangs up and does a dance around the room.  Assuming
Lance doesn't get freaked out by meeting him, he's got a date!

~~~~

Lance sits in his hotel room and waits.  He doesn't really know
anything about Orlando at all.  Except what Justin's told him, of
course.  So, here he sits, waiting for his 'Prince Charming' to
arrive.

"He's not gonna kill me.  Please, just stay right here," Justin
says.  "I don't wanna freak him out right at first."

Tiny frowns at him.

"Pretty pretty please?"

"Justin..."

"Thanks!"  He knocks on the door.

Lance checks the peephole.  "Who's there?"

"It's Justin."

Lance opens the door and squints theatrically.  "Can't be.  I'm
expecting a fat, balding, middle-aged man."

"Sorry," Justin says, grinning.  "I didn't bring my dad with me." 
He drinks in Lance's appearance.  Lance is *cute*.  Seriously hot
even.   Justin would've liked him anyway, but hot doesn't hurt.

"Well, okay."  Lance grins and pulls Justin into a hug.  "Hi!"

"Hi."

Lance lets go of Justin and steps back.  "Um.  Do you want to come
in?"

"Yeah, sure."  He moves past Lance into the hotel room.  One hotel
room's pretty much just like another and he ignores it, turning to
face Lance, still grinning.

Lance closes the door and leans against it.  "So.  Hi, yeah.  But
'nice to meet you' feels stupid, because I feel like I know you
already."

"We kinda sorta do," Justin agrees.

"So.  What should we do, now that we're actual people?"

"Um.  I'm not sure.  There's some stuff I should probably tell you
that I haven't yet 'cause it didn't seem important if we hadn't
actually met each other.  But I kinda really wanna kiss you first."

Lance blushes.  "Oh.  Well, yes.  That'd be cool."

Justin steps up.  "You sure?  'Cause we don't have to."

"Shut up.  Kiss now."

Justin obeys, arms sliding easily around Lance's waist.  It isn't
the first time he's kissed a guy, so he's not nervous, but Lance is
nervous, and Justin thinks maybe it is the first time for him.

Lance closes his eyes and lets go of his stupid 'I've never met you
before' fears.  His hands settle lightly on Justin's hips and the
kiss goes easy, suddenly.  Like they've done this before.

Justin breaks it off finally, resting his forehead against Lance's. 
"Whoa."

"You can say that again."

Justin laughs.  "You're seriously something.  I don't wanna stop
doing that, but yeah.  Better stick to just kissing."

Lance smirks even as he blushes again.  "We'd better leave then. 
This is just a big bedroom, after all."

"Yeah.  Uh, before we do, I have to tell you something."

"Okay."

"See, I didn't lie or anything.  I told you the truth.  I just
didn't tell you all of it, 'cause I didn't want you to think things
about me.  But if we leave here, you're gonna meet Tiny and then
you'll know.  So, um.  I'm Justin.  Timberlake.  Justin
Timberlake."

Lance makes a little, shocked sound.  Other than that, though, he
just stands there with his mouth open, like the idiot he apparently
is.

Justin fidgets.  "Is that gonna be a problem?  Or, uh, if you don't
believe me, Tiny'll vouch for me.  He's my bodyguard.  He's waiting
outside."

"Eep," Lance says faintly.  And then, "I kissed you.  And you
kissed me.  And you're so cool!  But you like me.  You like me
right?"

Justin nods.  "Uh-huh."

"I like you, too."

Justin smiles again.  "Then we're all right."

"Yeah."

"C'mon then.  Let's go eat."

Lance realizes he's still touching Justin and steps back with a
smile.  "Um.  Am I dressed okay?"

"I think you look great," Justin assures him.

Lance's smile turns to a leer.  "You look pretty damn fine
yourself."

Justin does a twirl in place.  "That's me."

Lance laughs.  "We have to go, before I just pounce on you. 
C'mon."

"Yes.  Pounce later."  Justin takes Lance's hand and squeezes it,
then pulls him out into the hall.  "Lance, this is Tiny.  Tiny,
Lance."

"Hello, Tiny."  Lance offers his hand and hopes he doesn't look
scared.

Tiny scowls at Justin and shakes Lance's hand.  "Nice to meet you,
Lance."

"Likewise."

They head out to dinner.  Justin and Lance chat while the valet
retrieves Justin's car and Tiny drives.  Justin treats this as a
normal thing.  "I should warn you," he says, "people take pictures. 
It doesn't really matter to me, but just so you know what to
expect.  Okay?"

"P-pictures?  Of me?"

"Yeah."  Justin twists in his seat.  "Is that gonna be a problem? 
There might be nobody, or it might just be one guy, or it might be
a whole lot of people."

"What if they ask you who I am?" Lance asks.  He's not really
worried.  Shocked, yes, but not worried.  It'd be his fifteen
minutes of fame.  But for Justin, it matters, being seen with some
random college student.

"I'll tell them you're a friend and your first name, at the most. 
They kinda have a right to follow me around, but I don't want
anybody bothering you."

"You don't mind?"

"Nah.  As long as we don't make it obvious we're seeing each other,
it doesn't matter who I hang out with."  Justin looks down.  "So,
uh, no public displays of affection.  If that bugs you..."

"Not, um.  At this point, no."  Lance smiles at Justin.  "It's not
like we're *serious* yet."

Justin looks up and smiles.  "Right.  Okay.  So just ignore them. 
If things get to be too bad, Tiny'll take care of it, but he'll be
trying to keep them off of me, 'cause, well, that's who they're
after.  Just stick close to him if anything happens."

"Okay."  Lance looks at the heavily tinted windows as the car
starts slowing down.  "Kiss?"

"Yeah."  Justin leans in as far as the seatbelt will allow and,
touching Lance's chin, kisses him.

Lance can safely bet that his stupid grin is firmly in place when
they enter the restaurant.

Justin wants to shout to the world that Lance is with him.  Him,
him, him and nobody else.  But knows that doing anything like that
will end up making Lance belong to them and not just to him, so he
keeps quiet and doesn't even play footsie under the table.  Even
though he's tempted.

Lance has more fun during dinner than he's had in months.  "You're
so cool."

Justin sticks his tongue out at him.  "You're easily impressed."

"Yeah, right.  Maybe you're just that impressive.  Ever think of
that?"

Justin snorts.  "Everybody thinks that; that I'm special or
impressive or whatever.  I think it's stupid.  I'm the same kind of
person you are.  And I like you more than I like me.  A whole lot
more."

"Yes, but we're different.  And you've had cool experiences." 
Lance smiles at Justin.  "Plus, you're hot," he whispers.

He snorts again.  "So're you."

"Well, then, let's go be impressed with each other.  It's time to
head to the venue, I think."

Justin nods.  "We have extra time if we need it.  We can show up
late.  But Chris is expecting me to drop by."

Lance nods back.  "So you better drop me off, then, and head to
him."

Justin frowns.  "What're you talking about?  You're coming with me,
right?"

"To meet *Chris*?" Lance squeaks.

"Sure.  Why not?  He's just a guy."  Justin looks at Lance's
expression and grins.  "'Course, I could tell him about the crush
you have on his ass."

Lance hides his face with his napkin.

Justin snickers.  "C'mon.  He'll think it's funny.  And he won't
mind meeting you.  He's an okay guy.  A dork, but an okay guy."

"But, um.  He's... Chris Kirkpatrick!"

"Uh, yeah.  I know that.  He's also the same guy who invited me
into his group back in the beginning and fed my homework to the
neighbors' dog and told my mom I wet the bed the night I got to
sleep over."

"Did he really?"

"Yep."

"Wow."

"Don't get me wrong.  I love Chris.  He's a great guy.  If the
group thing'd worked out, we'd probably be best friends.  But he's
a bit of an ass."

Lance just stares.

"What?"

"Meep!"

Justin shakes his head.

"Okay, I'm done.  Let's go."  Lance sets his napkin down and grins
at Justin.  "Fan moment over."

"Uh-huh.  Sure."  Justin stands up.  "I don't know how he gets all
the hot guys, but I'm gonna find out one of these days."

"I've got you.  Screw Kirkpatrick."

Justin rolls his eyes.  Whispering, he says, "That's what I'm
afraid of."

Lance waits until they're back in the car to reassure Justin.  He
spends the whole drive in the other man's lap.  There is much
making out involved.

By the time they get to the venue, Justin is pink-cheeked and
laughing.  He's also no longer afraid that he's gonna introduce
Lance to Chris and then lose Lance altogether.  Well, not much
afraid.

Lance carefully fixes his hair and meticulously puts on chapstick. 
"How do I look?"

"Gorgeous," Justin says honestly.

Lance rolls his eyes.  "Fine, be that way."

"Go ahead.  Be a girl."

"Brat," Lance accuses.

"I'm not the one making myself pretty to meet Chris."

"I'm not.  I'm making it obvious that I've been kissing you. 
Because tonight you're mine.  And I don't share."

"Yeah?" Justin asks hopefully.

"Hell, yeah."

Justin takes Lance's hand.  "Cool.  I may just be a little bit
irrational about the idea of you meeting Chris."

"Because I'm gonna wet my pants in embarrassment over my social
shortcomings?"

"No, because you obviously worship him, and Chris is the kind of
guy who'd think it's funny to try to win you away from me."

"I don't worship him.  I like his music."

Justin nods.

"I worship your kissing skills," Lance murmurs as they walk through
the hallways.

"That's what they all say," Justin says back in the same low tones.

Lance leans and puts his arm around Justin's waist.

Justin startles.  "Hey."

"Is this okay?"

"No, not here.  I don't wanna have to make a joke out of it if
anyone sees."

Lance sighs and steps back.

"Sorry."

"I just don't want you to doubt yourself."

Justin gives him a puzzled look.  "I'm not doubting myself.  I
just... look.  If anything, I'm insulting you.  The thing is, most
of the people I get to know could care less who they're with.  Me
or Chris or Chris's drummer or whoever.  And you're probably not
like that, but," he shrugs, "I'll feel better after you meet
Chris."

"Okay."

They're nearly run down by a maniac on a scooter.  Lance has to
fling himself to the side.  Justin barely lets go of him in time.

"Hey!" Justin yells after the maniac.

"Sorry, sorry, were you in my way?"  The maniac swerves back around
and looks up at Justin, laughing.

"Asshole."

Lance carefully approaches Justin again.

"Lance, this jerk is Chris Kirkpatrick.  Believe it or not."

Chris gives Justin a wide-eyed look.  "Aren't you going to
introduce me?"

"No.  You're a jerk."

Chris sticks out his tongue at Justin and holds his hand out to
Lance.  "Hi.  Him and me are sorta friends.  Believe everything he
tells you, except the stuff about the catsup.  I had nothing to do
with that."

Lance shakes Chris's hand.  And, yes, he's a little in awe.  "Nice
to meet you, Mr. Kirkpatrick."  But he can also see what Justin was
saying about how Chris is kinda an ass.  Because he is.  A little
bit of a jerk, a little bit mean, Lance thinks.

"Mr. Kirkpatrick?"  Chris raises his eyebrows.  "Justin, what have
you been telling this poor guy?"

"Nothing.  He had the bad taste to like your music all by himself."

"You're not my friend anymore," Chris announces.  "I only like
people who call me Mister.  Wanna see my dressing room, Lance?"

Justin rolls his eyes.

"I don't mean to bother you, sir," Lance says firmly.  "I just
wanted to tell you how much I enjoy your music and respect you as
a musician.  Justin was kind enough to bring me back with him."

Chris gives Justin a weird look and then nods to Lance.  "Thank
you.  I appreciate that."

Justin tucks his hand around Lance's bicep.  "We're gonna catch the
show.  Try not to screw up too bad, okay?"

"Just for that, I'm going to sweat right on you," Chris says,
recovering his equilibrium.

"Ooh.  I'll never wash again."

Chris snorts.  "That'll be the day.  I'd roll all over you if
that'd do it."

"Just 'cause some of us have heard of personal hygiene."

"Heard of it?  You're dating it and taking it flowers."

"Like I said."  Justin slaps Chris on the shoulder and then steers
Lance away.

Lance nods to Chris and follows Justin away.

"Sorry 'bout that," Justin says when they're out of earshot. 
"I'd've stayed longer, but you were upsetting him.  He gets all
confused around people who have manners."

Lance doesn't know whether to laugh or apologise.

"It's all right," Justin says, looking at Lance's expression. 
"It's not like you did anything wrong.  It's just that he's got a
show to do, and it's kinda mean pulling him out of the groove,
y'know?"

"I'm sorry?"

"No, no.  You're fine.  I just shoulda realized, y'know?"

"I'm still sorry.  If you wanna drop me off and go back..." Lance
offers.

"Nah.  You kinda have to be in the mood for Chris and I'm really
not."

"Oh."

"See, he psychs himself up by getting all hyper and weird and
funny.  And you're like a friend of mine, so he wants to treat you
the same way, except you aren't me and you didn't joke with him or
do anything he expected.  After the show, he'll be more set to
handle people wanting to be nice to him and say thank you and
stuff."

"It's just, I don't know him."

"You do now."

"No, I've *met* him."

Justin shrugs, clearly not getting it.  "He's just like that.  He's
Chris, that's all."

"To you, yes."

"To anybody."

Lance just shrugs.  "Oh, hey, once we get seats, can I go buy a
program?"

"Sure, or we can have someone snag a couple for us."

Lance smiles, just for Justin.  "You're so smart.  Plus, you'd
probably get mobbed, huh?"

"Maybe, maybe not.  Not worth taking the risk."

"Probably not.  Maybe I can just go for a couple minutes?"  Lance
blushes.  "I kinda want a t-shirt."

"Yeah, of course.  You don't have to stay with me.  It's not like
you're tied to me or anything."

"But it's a date!"

Justin smiles, pleased.  "Yeah?"

"Duh!"

He laughs.  "Okay.  I will totally make Chris sign whatever you
get."

Lance laughs so hard he has to lean against the wall for support.

"What?"

"I should buy... hee... those heart-shaped... hee... lunchboxes
with the opening act's name on them..."

Justin snickers.  "Oh, yeah."

"Hee!"

"And anything else embarrassing you can find."

"Will do, boss."

Justin pulls out his wallet and hands Lance two hundred dollar
bills.  "For anything you think I'd like, since I can't go look for
myself."

Lance takes the money and carefully doesn't roll his eyes or stare
at it.  "Anything you already have?"

"I don't have most of the fan stuff.  I have his albums, of course,
but not a lot of anything else.  Seriously, dude, just whatever
looks like it'd be funny to make him sign."

"Okay, will do."

Justin'd suggest that Lance use the money to buy whatever Lance
wants too, but he's pretty sure that would be rude, and he wants
Lance to keep liking him.

Lance gives Justin points for not offering to buy what Lance wants. 
After all, it's nice to be thought of as an equal.  He buys some
shit from the opening act for Justin, and a picture of Chris
looking all moony and girly.  For himself, he get the program, a
t-shirt and a heart shaped notepad with lyrics watermarked into the
background.  It's also a screaming shade of fuschia that's hard to
look at.  It's perfect.

After Lance leaves, Justin starts worrying about whether Lance'll
be able to get back.  "Did he have his pass?" he asks Tiny.

Tiny rolls his eyes.

"No, really."

Tiny points at the one Justin has hanging around his neck.

"Oh.  Yeah."  Justin looks at the laminated pass.  "What if he gets
mobbed for the pass?"  It happens sometimes, people trying to take
other people's passes, especially when they're marked VIP and
backstage.

Tiny ignores him.

Lance makes it back pretty well.  After he caught people staring at
his pass, he shoved it in his shirt.  Now he's just got to figure
out how to get it out with his arms full of fanshit.

"Wow.  Did you buy everything?" Justin asks, when Lance gets back
and dumps what he's holding in Justin's lap.

Lance laughs and sits down.  "Nah, just some of it."  He takes back
his things and hands Justin his change.

Justin makes Lance show him everything, and crows over the
notebook.  "Oh, man.  This is perfect.  I love it."

Lance laughs out, "Glad you approve."

Justin freezes.  "Um.  Unless you really like it?  Like, really,
and not just because it'd be funny to have Chris sign it, and um,
I think I should stop here."

"Nah, it's all good."

"Okay, 'cause it's not that I'm saying that color is girly or
anything.  Not that it is, but... um.  Did you get programs?"

"Yeah, here."  Lance pulls one out of the pile in Justin's lap and
lifts his own in his free hand.

Justin buries his nose in the program and doesn't say anything.

Lance shrugs and starts watching all the people around them.

When his embarrassment dies down a little, Justin ventures, "Is
this the first concert you've been to?"

Lance says, "Yeah.  I know, I know.  I'm a loser."

"No, that's cool.  I mean, I'm the weird one.  You're the normal
guy who goes to college and everything."

Lance shrugs.  "Um.  Did I ever tell you I'm on music scholarship?"

"Nope.  Do you sing or play an instrument or what?"

"Sing, I sing.  I'm a singer.  Yep."

"Right.  You said you were in some kind of show choir and we were
talking about how tough it is always having to travel.  I remember
now."

Lance rolls his eyes.  "Oh, yeah, now  I feel totally justified in
whining about my two week, neighboring-states tour.  It's got to be
a total bitch touring like you do."

Justin shrugs.  "Not exactly.  I probably get to travel more
comfortably.  And I don't have to worry about my homework while I'm
gone or anything."

"There is that," Lance notes.  "Hey, I read that you got an
Associate's Degree recently.  Associate of Arts, wasn't it? 
Congratulations!"

Justin shakes his head.  "Thanks, but it doesn't mean anything.  It
was honorary."

"The thing said you did the coursework."

Justin snorts.  "Yeah, well.  I didn't.  Not like a real student
woulda had to.  It was all pretty fake.  They gave me credit for my
so-called life experiences.  It doesn't mean anything."

"Huh."

"Sorry to destroy your illusions, but I'm just not that smart."

"You are that smart.  We've talked a hell of a lot.  You're smart."

"Not like you.  Not book-smart."

"Book-smart doesn't do a whole lot of good out in the real world,
though."

"Dunno.  It means I have to listen to what a lot of other people
tell me about contracts and accounting and money and stuff, and I
know that they don't always care about whether something's good for
me or just good for them."

"Huh.  That would be hard."  Lance is about to say more, but the
show starts.  The next three hours are *far* too loud for talking.

Justin enjoys the show.  He loves Chris's music, always has, except
for when Chris was going through his Weird Al phase.  But the best
part isn't the music.  It's leaning over and calling Lance's
attention to a cool lyric or the bass player's ass.

Lance laughs almost as much as he watches.  And he knows, for a
fact, that the concert wouldn't have been anywhere *near* as good
without Justin.

Chris makes good on his threat to spray sweat on Justin, coming
over to their side of the stage and shaking his hair wildly. 
Justin goes all fan-boy and pretends to swoon into Lance's arms.

Lance catches Justin and whoops his approval.

"He sweat on me!" Justin exclaims ecstatically.  "Did you see
that?"  To his amusement, people around them look envious.

Lance laughs and whispers, "Am I allowed to lick it off later?"

Justin almost does fall over then, but fortunately, Lance is still
holding him up.  "Yes!  Yes, please!"

"Chris!  Chris!  More sweat!" Lance yells.

Justin laughs.  Chris, of course, can't hear him, but it's still
funny.

By the time the concert ends, Lance is exhausted.  The final song
ends and, instead of joining the rush out, Lance sits down.

Justin sits down next to him.  "We can go back whenever," he says. 
"No rush."

Lance blinks and his eyes feel gritty.  "I just don't feel like
fighting through the crowd right now."

"Well, we wouldn't exactly have to fight.  Tiny'd help.  People are
pretty good about getting out of his way.  But if you're tired, we
can just go back to the hotel."

"What else would we do?" Lance asks innocently.

Justin really wants to make some suggestions.  But this isn't about
him getting laid.  This is about him making a friend he can
actually keep, and who can maybe see past the whole fame thing. 
See it, but see him, too.  "If you're really tired, we could maybe
just talk for a while or catch a movie or something and then see
each other tomorrow."

Lance smiles.  "Do you want to hang out with Chris for a while?"

Justin shrugs.  "He's probably expecting me to drop by, but I can
see him any time, so if you're tired, it's no big deal skipping
that."

"I don't mind.  I'm tired, and yeah, I don't wanna go clubbing. 
But I'm not ready to be done with this date yet."

"Um.  So what does that mean?"

"Hang out?  Watch a movie -- if you don't mind that I might fall
asleep.  Talk.  Again -- I'm sorry.  I'm totally wiped from the
plane and all."

"Yeah, okay.  That sounds great.  We can do that."  Justin knows he
sounds like an overeager dork.  He's hoping Lance thinks it's cute.

Lance grins.  "You're so freaking cute."

Justin grins back at him.  "Cool.  Let's go."

Lance stands and says, "Lead on."

Actually, Tiny does the leading, but Justin's so used to it that
it's no big deal for him.  Once they're safely in the car, Justin
takes Lance's hand.

Lance's fingers lace through Justin's and he finds, to his
pleasure, that Justin's just the right height for leaning on.

"You going to sleep right here?" Justin asks quietly, because Lance
is heavy and warm against him.

"Nah, just resting my eyes.  I'm not smelling your cologne. 
Promise."

"You like it, huh?  I'll have to find out what it is so I can wear
it on purpose from now on."

Lance hides his laugh in Justin's shoulder.  "Thanks.  That was a
great present."

"It wasn't a present, it was just an  idea I had since you were
coming here anyway."  Justin realizes he's goofed up.  "Was I
supposed to get you a present?  I didn't."

"Nah, I know it wasn't meant as one.  But it was still wonderful."

"You sure?  Because I could totally get you something.  Did you
want anything special?  A small island, maybe?"

"Don't be silly, brat.  I just like hanging out with you.  Plus,
being in Orlando is like a vacation for me."

"I hear people vacation here on purpose even," Justin says, smiling
at Lance's teasing.

Lance growls at Justin.  "Rahr."

It's a soft, quiet growl and it's so adorable that Justin can't
help smiling.  "Ooh, I'm scared.  Don't scratch me."

Lance scratches lightly down Justin's arm.

Justin shivers.  "Hey now."

"I'm bad."

Justin snorts.  "Not even."

"Oh, well."

Justin nuzzles the top of Lance's head.  Lance's hair smells good. 
All Lance-like.

"Nice."

"Hmm?"

"You.  You're nice."

"I try to be.  I'm not always very good at it."

"Oh, you're pretty good at it."

"Yeah?  Thanks."  With the air of one confiding a huge secret,
Justin says, "I really want you to like me."

Lance replies, "Now this is a secret and all, but I can trust you." 
He looks up at Justin and smiles.  "I really do like you."

"Yeah?  Cool."  Justin leans in and kisses Lance sweetly.

Lance kisses Justin back, less sweetly.

"Thought you were tired," Justin says huskily when they break
apart.

"I am.  But when have I ever been too tired for you?"

"Pretty much every time you have a morning class and I'm keeping
you up too late."

"But I never leave until you say goodnight."

"True.  But you make it really obvious that you want me to."

"Shut up.  You're ruining my romantic moment."  Lance grins.

Justin mimes zipping his lips closed and kisses Lance again.

The kissing is good.  The kissing is wonderful.  The kissing is so
wonderful that Lance doesn't even notice getting back to the hotel. 
They've been sitting still for a while, he knows, when Tiny's
throat-clearing penetrates.  "Hmm?" Lance murmurs against Justin's
lips.

Justin looks up.  "Uh.  I think we're here."

"We are?"

"Yeah.  We are.  Time for me to walk you up to your room."

"I have to stop kissing you then," Lance notes.  "Damn."

"Yeah."

Lance sits up, and straightens his clothes.  "There's no way I look
unkissed.  No way."

Justin squints.  "Well, you could pass for having slept in your
clothes on the way back."

Lance shrugs.  "Oh, well.  Let's go?"

"Sure."  Justin sticks his hands in his pockets after getting out
of the car so that he isn't tempted to touch Lance, and waits for
the valet to take the car.  After he does, he walks Lance up to his
room.

Lance collects his key from the desk and starts up the stairs. 
Justin's walking just behind him, and Tiny behind Justin, but
everyone's so quiet.  It's almost like there wouldn't be anyone
there if Lance turned around.

"Any idea how long you're going to be?" Tiny asks Justin, a
resigned tone in his voice.

"No," Justin says quietly.  "It's up to Lance."

Lance blushes at that and fumbles with unlocking the door.

"May I come in?" Justin asks.

"Yes.  Please."

Justin follows Lance in and waits for the door to shut behind them. 
Then he reaches for him, pulling Lance in close, arms around his
waist.  "This okay?"

"Yes, please," Lance repeats, but this time his heart is racing so
fast he feels like he's running a marathon.

Justin licks his lips.  "You're going to have to help me out with
what else is okay.  I don't want to go too fast or anything."

"What did you h-have in mind?" Lance asks.  He hadn't come here
planning to have sex with Justin.  At all.  The mutual crush thing
had made him hope they'd, like, make out.  Maybe some other stuff,
later.  He hadn't expected Justin to be Justin Timberlake, whose
rumored exploits are enough to make a lecher blush.  He hadn't
expected to like Justin this much, or be this attracted to him, or
to desperately want to go to bed with him.  Which is the problem. 
He didn't expect it, and he's not prepared.

"I don't know.  I'm pretty much okay with anything.  But what's
important to me is that you still like me and want to be around me
afterward."

"Oh, I can pretty much guarantee that."

"Not necessarily.  Not if we move too fast."

"It wouldn't be *you* I stopped liking over any of this.  I
promise."

"Still.  If you were mad at yourself, you wouldn't want to see me
and I don't want that."

"I don't remember you being this shy," Lance says and starts
backing toward the bed.

"Only with you."

"Good answer," Lance says.  He pulls Justin down onto the bed with
him.

Justin follows, kneeling over Lance.  His eyes take in Lance's
body.  "Can I?" he asks, reaching for Lance's shirt.

"Yes."

Justin pulls Lance's shirt up and over his head, and drops it to
the side.  Lance is firm and muscled and golden.  Justin's mouth
drops open.  "You're gorgeous."

Lance laughs in embarrassment.  "Stop it.  I am not.  You are."  He
slides his hands up under Justin's shirt, feeling the taut warmth
of Justin's chest under his fingers.

Justin impatiently discards his own shirt.  "Yeah, but I spend all
my time working on it.  It's like my job or something.  It doesn't
count."

"It counts," Lance murmurs.  He sits up and presses his mouth to
Justin's collarbone.

Justin sucks in his breath.

Lance takes that as a good sign, and thinks he's doing something
right.  He licks and kisses, sucks and nips at Justin's shoulders
and neck and chest.  Everything he can reach he wants to taste.

Justin finds himself lying down so Lance can reach him better.  His
hands are touching Lance cautiously, trying to get the feel of warm
skin under his hands without interrupting what Lance is doing.

Lance finally stills, laying his head on Justin's shoulder and
enjoying the feeling of Justin's hands on his back.

"That's.  I like that."

"My pleasure," Lance says smugly.

Justin presses up against Lance.  They're both hard.  Under
ordinary circumstances, he'd be hinting -- not subtly -- that he
wants to get off.  If things even got this far and the guy didn't
get him off as soon as they were behind closed doors.

Lance groans and presses back against Justin.  He closes his eyes
to better enjoy the sensation, and clings to Justin more tightly.

Justin moves his hands to grab Lance's hips and humps up against
him.

"Oh," Lance gasps.  His head spins with the feeling and *fuck* if
it isn't wonderful.  He looks at Justin's face, feeling like he's
drowning and Justin is his only anchor.

"Good?" Justin asks, "okay?"  He wants this and who the fuck cares
if it's juvenile getting off in his pants.  Except he can't get off
in his pants because he has to leave at some point and wearing the
same clothes.  "Fuck.  Gotta get out of these.  Okay?"  He fumbles
with his waistband, trying to get his pants off.

Lance stops Justin's hands.  Silently he kneels next to Justin and
starts removing the other man's pants.  Lance bites his lip and
concentrates on getting everything off nicely and not fainting at
the sight of Justin's cock.  Or drooling.  Drooling is a definite
possibility.

Justin half-sits up, watching Lance.  He's not gonna tell Lance
that Lance can't undress him, but if Lance starts trying to do
something stupid, like suck his dick, Justin's going to stop him. 
He's not sure exactly how this has to be, but he knows it has to be
a mutual thing.

When Justin's naked, Lance stands and gets rid of his own remaining
clothes.  He blinks at Justin, who's watching him, and smiles
shyly.  "Okay?"

"Yeah.  Absolutely.  C'mere?"

Lance crawls back onto the bed, laying on his stomach next to
Justin.  He's very aware of how naked his dick is.

"You wanna... you wanna do what we were doing before?" Justin asks.

"Okay."  Lance smiles and moves back to Justin's side.

Justin tugs at Lance until Lance's limbs overlap his, then rubs
against him.  So much better this time, nakedness to nakedness.  He
gasps and searches for Lance's mouth, finding it and sealing it
with his own.

Lance makes embarrassing, wanting sounds.  He's glad Justin's there
to muffle them as their motions become more needy.

Justin possesses Lance's mouth with his tongue.  He's aware that
Lance wants this as bad as he does from the little sounds Lance is
making and how Lance is practically trying to crawl into his skin
with him.  But that's all right, because Justin wants the same
thing, to be inside Lance or have Lance inside him.

Lance's control, untested in this way, finally gives out.  He comes
against Justin's body with a shout.  Head tossed back and body
jerking against Justin's, he rides out the waves of pleasure only
to collapse weakly against the younger man.

Lance's orgasm triggers Justin's.  It's so fucking hot having Lance
gasping and jerking and coming against him plus there's the whole,
'wow, I did that' thing and the way Lance's mouth just opens when
he comes.

For a while, the only sound in the room is harsh breathing and the
slight shifting of their bodies as they slowly calm.  Lance breaks
the stillness by moaning faintly and saying, "Dead.  Killed dead."

Justin rubs his cheek against Lance's.  "Inna good way, right?"

"The best way."

"Cool."  Justin curls up around Lance like he's protecting Lance
against anyone else seeing him or getting near him.

Lance kisses Justin again.

"Still gonna wanna talk to me t'morrow?"

"Mmhmm.  Still respect you in the morning, too."

"Still respect yourself?"

"I think so, yeah."

"Good."

"Are you staying?" Lance asks quietly.  He's rapidly falling in
love with, if not Justin, the feel of Justin's body wrapped around
his.

"For a while.  I can't stay all night."

"Oh."

"You could come stay with me, though.  When you want to.  If you
want to."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Why?" Lance asks.

"Why not?  Even if we never made out or did any of this, you could
still come stay with me.  You're my friend.  Right?"

"Yeah."  Lance smiles.  Justin's smart.

"So, see.  You could.  No matter what.  Or you don't have to if you
don't want.  I guess it's some kind of independence thing staying
in a hotel instead and I get that.  You didn't know if I'd be a
weirdo or whatever."

Lance says, "The hotel has a pool.  I like to swim.  I guess, I
just thought it'd be nice to have somewhere to go.  Yeah, in case
you were a weirdo, or lived in a tiny apartment, or had roommates
or something."

"Nope, no roommates, big house, indoor pool and, well, I *am* a
weirdo, but you don't seem to mind so much."

"You're the good kind," Lance replies.

"Cool."

"That too."

Reluctantly, Justin gets up.

Lance whimpers and grabs at Justin.  "Hey!"

Justin sits back down, putting a hand on Lance's side.  "I gotta go
sometime.  And if I don't, I won't, 'cause I don't really want to."

Lance sits up, leaning against Justin.  "I don't want you to
either," he whispers.  "I want you to stay.  I want to be with
you."

Justin puts his arm around Lance.  "Me, too."

Lance ducks his head against Justin's shoulder.  He's probably
being weird.  Guys aren't clingy, like girls, probably.  But Lance
has always *liked* the clingy part.

"I gotta go though.  I can't stay here.  For one, Tiny'd probably
kill me."

"Yeah."

"You wanna... come with me?  Like tomorrow?  Or tonight even?"

Lance thinks about all the reasons he shouldn't go with someone he
officially just met.  "Yes.  Please."

Justin brightens.  "Really?  That'll be so cool."

Lance nods.  "Yeah."

"Okay then.  Now?  Now would be good."

"Yeah.  Now."  Lance stands up and packs the few things he'd taken
out of his suitcase.  "We gonna shower here?"

Justin wrinkles his nose.  "Yeah, I am, definitely."

Lance grins and starts the water.  "Join me?"

Justin is in the shower with him a heartbeat later, crowded up
close so he can feel Lance against him.  "Yeah."

Lance laughs and leans back against Justin.  "You lonely?" he
teases.

"Nope.  Just like being with you."

Lance turns around and just stares at Justin.  Naked, he's hot. 
Naked and wet...

"Hi."

"Hi," Lance replies.  He steps forward and rubs himself against
Justin.  "Slippery," he says breathlessly.

"Yeah."  Justin's hands skid down to cup Lance's ass.  "Wet."

Lance returns the favor, thoroughly groping Justin's butt.

"So, um.  Getting clean?"

"Oh.  I suppose so."

"Because, y'know.  If we can get clean, we can go back to my place,
and then we can just stay naked.  If, uh.  That's what you want."

Lance grabs the soap and starts washing Justin.

Justin laughs and helps him.

They're both clean before long, and Lance happily gets redressed. 
He gets to stay with Justin.  Whoo!

Justin tries really hard not to rush Lance, but he's pretty much
reduced to trying not to tap his foot or shove things into Lance's
bag for him.

Lance shoulders his overnight bag and pulls out the little bar on
his suitcase.  "Ready."

"Okay then."  Justin's almost jumping with excitement, but he calms
himself and leads Lance out into the hall and finds Tiny.  "We're
going back to my place," he says.

Tiny just nods.

The bodyguard's face is blank, but Lance blushes brightly anyway.

Justin pretends not to notice.  He's too happy anyway, practically
bouncing on his toes as the car is pulled around and they get in.

Lance sits and whispers, "He knows."

Justin takes Lance's hand.  "Yeah."

"Does it show or something?"

"Uh.  Not so much show as it's kinda obvious that's why I was there
and why I'm taking you back with me.  Plus, um," Justin gets a
little red himself, "I'm kind of known for, uh, sleeping around."

"I know," Lance replies.  "Um.  I was sort of nervous, y'know.  How
I'd stack up.  You dated that porn chick, even.  I don't know what
I'm doing.  I mean, I *know*, but not like that."

Justin snorts.  "Like it matters.  It's not.  Sex isn't...  look,
people like it or they don't like it.  And most of the time they're
not doing it 'cause they like it.  They're doing it 'cause they
want something.  And it sucks."

"Oh," Lance says meekly.  He wonders, then, what Justin was doing
with him.

"See, you.  You seem to really like me.  And like... what we did. 
It wasn't all 'let's get him off so we can get this over with'."

"No," Lance agrees.

"You act like you really like *me*.  That's what I like best about
you."

"I *do* really like you," Lance says.  "I wouldn't have... done
that, if I didn't."

"That makes you different from everybody else."

Lance shrugs.  "That totally sucks."

"It's just the way it is."

"It still sucks."

"Nothing I can do about it."

Lance nods.  "How long is it to your house?"

"Fifteen, twenty minutes."

"Justin?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you still respect me in the morning?"

"I don't know what that means, but I'll still want you around if
that's what you're asking."

"D'you think it's slutty, that we had sex right after we *really*
met?  I always thought that was slutty, but I already *know* you! 
You're my friend.  I've totally had a crush on you for months."

"No, but my standards suck.  I have no idea what's normal and
what's not."

"If it helps, I really like you.  A lot.  And you never seemed
shallow or self-absorbed when we chatted.  I know the magazines say
that about you.  But you're really not.  You're sweet."

"You don't know me very well yet."

"We've been talking for over a year.  Were you lying?"

"No.  But it's different in person.  I'm different.  More
unbearable."

"I bore you just fine."

Justin flashes Lance a quick smile.  "You don't bore me."

"Ass."

"I thought I was a brat."

"You are.  I like you, whatever you are."

"Okay."

"Psst.  This is where you say you like me too."

"Oh!"  Justin raises his eyebrows, genuinely surprised.  "Of course
I like you.  You didn't know I like you?"

"I know you liked me before."

"I still do," Justin assures him.  "I like you lots.  That hasn't
changed at all.  Except that maybe I like you more know that I
really know you and you're not just a voice on the other end of the
phone."

Lance nods.  The streetlights outside get softer.  They pass
through a gate.  Lance says, "I don't sleep around.  Just, y'know,
in case you wondered."

"I do.  Or I did.  I don't have to though.  Not if we're, like,
together."

The car stops, but Lance is staring at Justin.  "Together?  With
me?"

"Um, yeah.  That's what you meant, right?  'Cause if it's not and
I've got it all wrong or something..."

"I would, um.  I would love that.  But we need to talk about it,
because I never ever thought you'd want to be with me, ever.  I
mean, even when you were just Justin.  Not that you're different
now, but...  And I live far away.  And I'm -- I'm just *Lance*!"

"But I like Lance."  Tiny's got the door open and Justin gets out. 
"Thanks, man."

Lance gets out his own door, still stunned by the whole 'Justin
likes me' revelation.

Justin waits until they're in the house and the alarm system's been
reset before continuing the conversation.  "I mean, I don't know
what 'together' is gonna mean, because you do live a ways away, and
anyway, I'm always traveling, but I thought maybe, what with you
agreeing to stay here and all, that we'd be exclusive.  At least
for however long this lasts.  It seems funny-wrong when I think
about going out with other people and still wanting to be with you. 
I mean, that's what normal people do, right?  When they like
someone?  They stop having sex with other people."

"Yeah.  Um.  I won't be stopping having sex with other people,
because I don't.  I mean.  I don't do casual sex, so.  So, it's,
like, easy.  Just you.  I just want you."

"But you wouldn't have sex with someone else.  Not while you were
still with me."

"No."

"See, that's what I mean.  I want to do that.  I want to be with
you and not have anyone else as long as I have you still."

Lance grins.  "I think I can handle that."

"Okay.  Good.  Glad we got that settled."

Lance reaches out for Justin's hand.  "Um?"

"What?"

"Take me to bed?"

"Okay."  Justin leads Lance upstairs.

Lance tries not to be visibly awed by the opulence of Justin's
house.

"It's just a house," Justin says.  "I hardly ever get a chance to
be here."

"I've just never known anyone who actually *lived* like this."

"I don't actually live like this, not really.  I mostly live in
hotel rooms or on a bus."

"But... never mind.  I'm tired.  You wore me out!"

"Did not.  I barely did anything."  Justin pushes the bedroom door
open.  "This is where I sleep when I'm home."

Lance stumbled exaggeratedly toward the bed.  "Sleeeeeep."

Justin snickers and starts stripping off his clothes.  Shoes first,
then shirt and pants.  "Whatever you say."

Lance collapses onto the bed.  He toes off his shoes and curls up
in one corner.  There has to be room for six people in this bed.

Justin gets comfortable, lying on his side and looking over at
Lance.  "Going right to sleep then?"

Lance shakes his head.  "I suppose, just for you, I could get
naked.  And maybe do a couple other things before sleep."

"You don't have to get naked."  Justin's still wearing his
underwear.  "But you could come over here.  I'd like that."

Lance strips to his boxerbriefs and crawls over to Justin.

Justin lifts his arm and makes room for Lance.  When Lance lies
down against him, he sighs.  "That's better.  Missed you."

"Was just over there."

"Too far."

Lance smiles.  "Flatterer."

"It's not flattery.  Just like touching you."

"Flattery," Lance insists, but he wraps his arm tightly around
Justin.  "I like touching you, too."

"Good.  I like you liking touching me."

Lance shivers.  "Can we have covers to go with the touching?  Or
with the sleeping?  If the touching is going to put off the
sleeping, I don't want covers."

"Uh.  I don't understand what you're saying, but you can have
whatever you want, covers or no covers."

"Are we gonna have sex again?  Right now?"

"I dunno.  You said you were tired."

"I am.  I'm also incredibly attracted to you."

"There's tomorrow, too," Justin says.  He already got off and
keeping Lance is his priority.  "Sleep."

Lance's head falls to Justin's shoulder as Justin turns on to his
back.  "This okay?" Lance asks.

"Perfect."

Lance falls asleep smiling.