Pairing: Justin and Lance
Words: pacifist; pink; scrabble; fog


"So, you don't mind?"

"If I minded, I would have said so."

"Okay."  The Scrabble box is opened and pieces set up.  "You know
I'm not good at this, right?"

Toothy smile.  "Why do you think I don't mind?"

"Most people would."

"Justin, most people love playing stuff they're good at and kicking
other people's asses.  It's losing they hate."

"Yeah, but the consequences..."

"You backing out?  Forfeiting?"

"No."

"Well, then."

Justin places the word 'pink' on the board.

Lance crosses it with 'pacifist'.

Justin places 'century'.

"Nice."  Lance is a good sport.  It's manners.  And it irks Justin,
who usually isn't a good sport.  He got screwed on the redraw,
though, which just goes to show that you pay for using up all your
good letters at once.  His next word's shorter, but the J on the
double letter box almost makes up for it.

Justin sighs and adds 'ic' to make 'pacifistic'.

Lance holds in the snort.  He's in trouble.  The 'ing' on the end
of 'pink' doesn't even half make up for Justin's play.

"What's pinking?" Justin asks.

"Are you challenging it?"

"No, I just wondered."

Lance shrugs.  "Ever heard of pinking shears?"

"Yeah, but what's pinking?"

"It's whatever you do with the shears, I suppose."

"Oh."  Justin spells 'gears'.

"So why me?" Lance asks as he lays down his next word.

"I like you," Justin says, considering his letters.

"Oh."  That's more of an answer than he really wanted.  Lance
fiddles with his letters, as though he's planning his next move.

"You're, um.  You're nice to me."  Next word laid down.

"So you think I'll be nicer to you than any of the others if you
lose?"

"I think you'll be nicer to me if I win, and better if I lose."

Lance blushes a little.  "You're not wrong."

Justin smiles a little and puts down a rather suggestive word.

Lance licks his lips and wonders whether he should play to lose.

Justin blushes and tries to pretend he's not blushing.

"I don't know why everyone else didn't jump at the chance to play
with you."

"Well, actually... I didn't ask anyone else."

"Oh."  Lance concentrates on his letters.

It takes a while, but eventually Justin spells out 'gay' and then,
on his next turn, 'virgin'.  He keeps his eyes on the board.

Lance adds an 'ity' to the end of 'virgin'.  The score's a lot more
even than he expected it to be.  He clears his throat.  "You want
to win?"

"I want to play the game fair."

"Fine."  It's not fine.  Suddenly, Lance just wants to get it over
with.  Justin didn't ask anyone else; it isn't like Lance is his
last choice.  He wants this and that makes the game, win or lose,
just a charade.

Justin puts down another few tiles.  "Are you mad?"

"No.  I just don't see why you're going through the motions."

"So I don't have to choose which way."

Lance lays down another word.  'Fog'.  His ability to think about
the game is being severely hampered.  "Okay, but you could have let
it be the other person's -- *my* choice, if you couldn't make up
your mind."

Justin says, "It is.  Your subconscious."  He tallies the score. 
"You're ahead by 40."

Lance does something he never does.  He's a good sport.  A good
winner and a better loser.  Everyone knows he plays to win, but
plays fair about it.

But he picks up the board anyway, shaking it and dropping the tiles
back into the box.

Justin stares.  "Oh."

"Forget the game," Lance says.  He looks at Justin, heat in his
eyes.  "I'll choose for you."

"Okay."  Justin stands up, looking at Lance.  "You choose."

Lance stands up and takes Justin's hand.  He leads him down the
aisle, toward the back of the bus.  "Excuse me," he says, stepping
over Chris' legs.

"Ooh," Chris says.  "You're going to deflower the boy."

Lance kicks him.  "Justin is going to do *me*, and jealousy is
*not* a good look on you, Chris."

Justin's hand tightens on Lance's.

"Hey!" Chris squawks, starting what sounds like a long protest, but
Lance ignores him, heading to the back.  When the sliding door's
shut, he turns to face Justin.

"So, I'm gonna do you, huh?"

"Yep."

"Um.  Why, out of curiosity?"

Lance shrugs.  "You're having trouble making up your mind.  It'd be
easier for you, and I like it like that.  Plus it completely threw
Chris."

Justin laughs and steps forward, brushing against Lance.  "Good
points."

"And," Lance says, voice deepening as he puts his hands on Justin's
hips, pulling him in close, "you know where to find me if you
change your mind."

Justin nods and kisses Lance.

Lance kisses Justin, removing their clothing at the same time. 
Some buttons here, a zipper there.

Eventually, Justin steps back, looking at Lance's body, and his
hand on Lance's cock.  "You're hotter than Brit."

Lance laughs.  "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult. 
We've got different parts, you know."  He gives Justin a smile. 
"Do you want to choose face up or face down?"

"I want to see you.  But the bunks are kinda small, so... can we
manage?"

Lance steps back from Justin, lifts his arms up, and then turns in
a slow circle.  "Like what you see?"

Justin reaches out, trailing his fingers across the skin moving
before him.  "Yes.  Very much.  Um.  D'you?"

Lance raises an eyebrow.  "Feeling insecure?  You know you're sexy. 
Dead sexy."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I'm sexy to *you*."

Lance comes back to Justin.  He runs his hands down Justin's side. 
"I knew exactly what I was getting into when I said I'd play
Scrabble with you.  Now I want you to get into me."

Justin snorts.  "That's *bad*, man."

Lance lets go of him and silently climbs into the lower bunk, lying
on his back.  He gives Justin a glance, then reaches up.  From some
hiding place between the bunks, he gets a tube of lubricant.  When
Justin doesn't stop him, just watches with his mouth open, Lance
smiles like a cat.  "Bad in the good way, you mean.  Right?"

Before Justin can answer, Lance reaches down and starts working his
fingers into himself.  The angle's awkward, but it doesn't matter,
because Lance has a good view of Justin, and Justin has an even
better view of him.

Justin's breathing is uneven.  "Holy shit."

"I'll take that as a yes," Lance purrs.

Justin reaches out.  "Can I do..."

"Yes."

So Justin does.  "Jesus.  You sure this isn't gonna hurt you?" 
Lance is incredibly tight around Justin's fingers.

Lance lets his arms relax onto the bunk.  So much better when
someone else is doing it.  "Doesn't hurt.  Feels *good*."

"You're so tight.  So hot."

Lance spreads his knees as wide as he can get them.  "Mmm."

Justin starts stroking Lance's legs, tugging at his hips.  He's got
two fingers up in Lance now.  It's so hot.

Lance moves his hips into Justin's touch.  It's pretty good just
like this.  "Another one, J."

Justin does.  Lance's face goes all slack suddenly.  "Oh, yes.  You
like that."

"Uh huh," Lance agrees.

Justin grins.

There was smugness in Justin's voice before.  Lance doesn't care. 
It's a turn-on even, Justin saying that he knows Lance likes this. 
Lance *loves* this.

Justin watches his fingers vanish and appear, shining with lube. 
"Will I like it this much?"

"Dunno.  Some..." Lance draws his breath in sharply as Justin's
fingers go in again, "guys don't.  But it's *good*.  So good.  Even
if you're only doing it to yourself."

"Never did that to myself."

"You can.  's good.  Hard to reach, but good."  Lance's hand flexes
on the blankets.  He wants to touch himself, but it'd be over too
fast then.

Justin waits until Lance's body doesn't seem to be fighting.  "Um. 
Now?" he asks, voice strained.

"Now.  Now's good."

Justin doesn't waste and time moving into position.  "Um.  Condom?"
he queries.

Lance growls at him.

Justin shrugs.  "I've only been with Brit."  He reaches down and
guides himself in.  It's a lot harder than doing a girl.

Lance was about to the point of swearing at Justin if he didn't
start fucking him.  It's not like Lance keeps condoms in his bunk,
hoping to get lucky.  No.  But now Justin's in.  "C'mon," he urges. 
"More."

Justin gives him more, grunting at the tightness and the slick and
the fucking *hot* and.  Well, Lance's knees against his sides. 
That's pretty sexy too.

Lance pulls at Justin, trying to get him closer.  He needs Justin
on top of him.  He craves the sweaty friction of Justin's stomach
against his cock.

Justin eases down, bracing himself on his arms, like he would for
Britney.  "Feels so good, Lance."

Lance whines in the back of his throat.  Closer, but not good
enough.  He gets his hands on the small of Justin's back and tugs
at him.

Not expecting that move, Justin falls full onto Lance.  "Sorry," he
grunts, hips working hard.  He tries to prop himself back up and
stop hurting Lance.

"No.  No, s'good.  Just like that."

Justin laughs low and goes harder.  And, like, guys have a
prostate.  Justin wonders if it's the same as a G-spot for a chick. 
He tries the things that made Brit fall apart, tilting his hips.

When Justin starts hitting the right spot, Lance's hands clench on
him and he keens.  His dick is slipping slickly against Justin's
toned stomach and he's gonna come any minute.

Justin likes Brit's boobs.  It's habit to reach up and roll a
nipple.  Lance seems to like it, too.  He goes tighter -- fucking
*tighter* -- on Justin's cock.  Justin starts swearing.

Lance is already oversensitized and desperately wanting.  When
Justin starts playing with his nipples, he loses it.  He jacks his
hips against Justin and the pressure on his cock is just right,
just right and Justin's hard and heavy and perfect inside him and
Lance's muscles lock as he arches up, coming.

Justin's voice shudders to a stop.  Lance is beautiful.  His face
is slack and tight and hurting and exultant all at once.  Justin
wants to feel that, too.  It only takes a moment, and he comes
along with Lance.

Lance is lazily aware of Justin coming as well.  When Justin
collapses on him, Lance moves over, and rolls to his side so they
can both almost lie down.  He puts an arm over Justin and licks his
shoulder.  Lance is sensual and easy after good sex.

Justin tucks his arm under his head and looks at Lance.  "So."

"Mmm?"

"That was way good."

"Yep."

"Can we do it again?"

Lance chuckles low in his throat.  "Yeah, sure.  After I recover
from this time."

Justin smiles shyly.  "Can we pretend I lost?"

"You wanna be on the bottom, J?" Lance asks, smiling.  He bestirs
himself enough to run his hand down Justin's side to the swell of
his ass.  "I think I can do that."

"I'm pretty sure you can," Justin says with a smirk.

The tone is sheer provocation.  "You sure you wanna get into this
right now?" Lance asks with a voice of pure honey.

"Mmm.  *I've* already been into it.  Very pleasant."

Lance chuckles again and scoots down just enough to reach.  Instead
of idly groping, he insinuates his fingers between Justin's ass
cheeks, searching for the hole.  When he finds it, he works a
fingertip inside.

Justin sighs and smiles at Lance.  "Seems you're the one getting
into it."

"You want it, you got it."  Lance rests his head against Justin,
content to finger him.

Justin relaxes with his head pillowed on his arms.  He can't see
Lance now anyway, but the comfortable intimacy of the half-dark
bunk makes everything feel perfect.

Justin doesn't seem too impressed by one finger, so Lance pulls his
hand away and fumbles for the lube.  When he's got his fingers nice
and slippery, he goes back with two.

Air hisses out from between Justin's teeth, but he doesn't tense.

"Better?" Lance murmurs.

"Uh.  Yeah?"

"Felt good when you were doing this.  So good.  Dirty-good, like
you're not supposed to enjoy being full there, but you do anyway,
'cause you can't help it."

Justin laughs.  "Porn voice."

Lance twists his fingers.  "Y'know, if you're not enjoying this, we
don't have to do it."

Justin's struck dumb for a long moment.  "Ugh, you fucker!  Yes, I
like it.  Please."  He spreads his legs more and presses back.  The
burn increases, but burn has never stopped Justin Timberlake and
it's not going to now.

"Good," Lance says, licking at the skin under his mouth.  He
stretches his fingers apart.  "'Cause you know, I'd hate to do
something you didn't like."

Justin shivers.  "Bastard," he says admiringly.

The skin under his mouth turns out to be Justin's chest.  Lance
takes the nipple between his teeth, then flicks his tongue over it. 
Justin's ass tightens, just a little, around his fingers.  "Oh, my
parents were married.  But teasing's *good*.  Isn't it?"

"When you do it, yes.  Very good."

"Ready for another?"

"I don't know.  You tell me."

"Yeah.  You are."  Lance pulls his fingers out and lubes all three
of them.  "Feel empty?"

Justin squirms and nods.  "Hell, yeah."

"Good."  And then he's working the three of them in.  Justin's ass
clenches around them, and it's no stretch of imagination at all to
know what that'd feel like on his dick.

Justin stares at nothing, unable to believe the feelings.  If this
is how girls feel...

Justin's thrusting against him, apparently involuntarily.  "Hot. 
You're really hot like this.  Helpless on my fingers."

"Not... helpless," Justin protests.  "Just want you."

"It's a turn-on, thinking of you wanting it that much though."

Justin looks down, reaches down to touch Lance.  "From you.  Yeah."

"You're a romantic," Lance says.

"Take that back!"

"You are."  Lance removes his fingers and comes back up Justin's
body.  He half-covers him, studying his face critically.  "In fact,
I think you'd rather I kissed you right now than fucked you." 
Before Justin can deny it, Lance lowers his head and kisses him. 
Slowly and thoroughly.

Justin's arms wrap around Lance.  He looks helplessly up when Lance
lifts away.  "Don't tell Chris."

Lance nuzzles Justin's cheek as he asks, "Why not?  You got a thing
for him?"

"He'd kick my ass for growing up a romantic."

"You sure about that?  Inside that gruff exterior is a soft heart,
y'know."

"I'm supposed to know better," Justin says, reaching up to trace
Lance's features.  "So, how 'bout you just don't break my heart and
I won't break yours, and then he'll never know I adore you
helplessly?"

Lance raises his eyebrows and lifts his head to look at Justin
clearly.  "You have a thing for *me*?"

"Duh."

"Oh.  I thought... I thought you had a thing for Chris and you just
wanted me to, y'know.  Get you started."

"Um, ew!  No. Chris is like my big brother-dad-best friend figure. 
It'd be, like, incestuous."  Justin shudders dramatically.

"Yeah, well..."

"Well what?"

"It wouldn't stop everyone.  That's all."  Lance kisses Justin
again.

Justin kisses Lance back like if this kiss isn't good enough,
Lance'll leave and never come back.

Lance breaks away from the kiss, dropping his head to Justin's
shoulder.  "I'm not in love with you, J," he says as gently as he
can manage.  "I'm flattered and you already know I like the sex,
but."

"So?  I'm not in love with you, either.  I just like you a lot. 
Y'know.  Crush you and shit.  Just don't play me.  I won't play
you.  It'll all be good.  And if I fall in love with you -- it
could happen -- I'll tell you."

Lance nods.  "I don't play games.  Not those kind."

"Are you gonna fuck me today?"

"Maybe later."

"Why?" Justin asks.

Lance takes Justin's hand and guides it to his mostly limp dick. 
"That.  And I'll enjoy it more later."

Justin groans in frustration, but doesn't argue.

"You need to get off?" Lance asks huskily, hand moving to find
Justin's cock.

"Not without you," Justin says, reaching to still Lance's hand.  "I
don't like it like that."

"Okay."

Justin smiles.  "So.  You want me to make you a sandwich?"

"I know how to make a sandwich," Lance says bemusedly.

"I know.  But, um.  I didn't know what else to say.  What do we do
now?"

"Lunch is good."  Lance kisses Justin.  "Nothing wrong with lunch."

"Okay."  Justin doesn't move though.  He cuddles closer to Lance. 
"So.  You liked that, huh?"

"I love it."

"Good deal."