Pairing: Lance and Justin
Words: baby blue; the Bass ass; shorty; plum


Lance comes out from the back of the bus, stretching.  It's Texas
and it's just Joey, so he's just got on a pair of cotton boxers. 
Smoked glass windows keep anyone else from being shocked and he
doesn't need to get dressed until at least another few hours.

Hydration, on the other hand, can't wait any longer.

He saunters into the front and stops in front of the refrigerator,
and bends down to get a bottle of chilled water, hearing in the
background, the sound of someone talking.  Presumably on the phone,
since it's just Joey.

Justin looks at Lance's ass.  And then he laughs into the phone. 
"Joey, dude, does Lance always wander around half dressed?"  

Lance's head snaps up.  "Justin?"

"Oh!  Dude, he noticed me, gotta go."  Justin hits end and grins
over at Lance.  "You noticed!"  

Lance shakes his head.  "It's not that's difficult.  You don't look
or sound anything like Joey."  He turns around a little stiffly. 
"I'm going to get dressed.  Feel free to update the world."

"No, no.  Dude.  I have no objection to ogling the Bass Ass, man." 
Justin tries to look sincere.  

"You might not, but maybe I do."  With that, Lance disappears and
goes to start finding some clothes that won't be too hot to wear
but won't incite teasing either.

Justin taps a pencil on his lips.  He really needs to put Lance at
ease.  But how to do it?  By the time Lance comes back out,
Justin's stripped down to his baby blue boxers.  "Too hot, man. 
Don't worry about it."

Lance rolls his eyes.  "I'm not."  He gets another water and sits
down at his laptop.  Deliberately putting himself that near to a
heat source seems like insanity, but it has its points over
directly confronting Justin.  What was he doing on Lance's bus
anyway?

"So, Joey traded because the air on our bus isn't broken and I owe
him a favor," Justin says.  He sits up and crosses his legs,
looking over at Lance.  "Sorry you're stuck with me."  

Lance glances up.  At least it isn't for a weird reason.  "S'okay. 
I suppose the sensible thing to do would've been for all of us to
go over there, but I like the quiet and it's not all that hot."

"Well.  Chris forgot his allergy pills, and he's overdue for
cortisone shots.  So, um.  There's *no* quiet over there."  

Lance shudders.  "Then I'm definitely glad I stayed."

Justin laughs.  "Hey, watcha doin'?"  

"Stuff."

"What kinda stuff?"  

"Boring stuff.  Don't you have TV to watch?"  Lance is actually
scanning for porn while simultaneously making a list of what
supplies they need loaded onto the bus at the next stop.  But
Justin doesn't need to know that.

"No.  The TV makes heat.  I'm *really* hot."  And he is, too.  Hot
enough that his skin is starting to turn red.  

"Fridge is over there," Lance waves.  "Start drinking."

Justin gets a bottle of water and then sprawls on the floor.  After
half the bottle, he notes, "Dude.  This water tastes like plums." 


Lance raises his eyebrows.  Justin is distracting.  Hotter than
some of the porn.  "Plums?"

"Yeah.  Some weird fruit, you know?"  Justin rubs the cold bottle
across his chest and stomach.  "I'm so fuckin' hot, man."  

"Like that's a change."

Justin grins at Lance.  "Thanks."  

Lance rolls his eyes and goes back to his computer.   Everything
he's looking at is suddenly falling into two categories: Hot As
Justin, and Not As Hot As Justin.  This is not good.  Especially
when he finds himself adding 'butter' to the list of necessary
supplies.

Justin crawls across the floor and lays on his stomach at Lance's
feet.  "Shorty, you should come down here.  It's way cooler."  

Lance kicks him.  "I'm only short in comparison to you."

"True.  Come down here."  Justin lays his head on Lance's foot.  

"Justin, if I came down there, I'd be closer to you.  You, if you
hadn't noticed, also radiate heat.  That would make such an action
stupid."

"But we don't have to lay *touching* each other.  duh."  

"There's not enough room in the aisle for both of us."

"So we'll go in the back lounge."  

"Or one of us could go in there and the other could stay out here."

"Why?"  

Lance sighs.  "I know you live on the bus of constant noise and
touching, but some of us like our alone time.  What little of it we
get."

"Oh," Justin says.  "Okay.  You want me to go away then?"  

Lance rubs his forehead.  "I don't know.  I've been trying to *say*
that for the last forever, but.  I dunno."

Justin sits up next to Lance.  "Can I help?" he asks hesitantly.  

"Help with what?"

"Make you feel better.  You look like you feel kinda bad."  Justin
shrugs a little.  "I don't... I don't want you to feel bad."  

"I look like I feel bad?" Lance echoes.

"You look like you have a headache and you're tired."  

"I just got up," Lance protests.

"Well.  Um.  I should just leave you alone, right?"  

"That's what I thought I wanted you to do," Lance admits.

"But now you don't think so?"  

"I'm becoming rapidly less sure."

"Oh?  What d'you want me to do for you now?"  

"At the moment?  You're annoying me again.  For a second, you had
me.  But now you're just annoying."

"Sorry," Justin mutters, standing up.  "I'll just get out of the
way, then."  

"Fine."  Lance turns his attention back to his laptop as Justin
huffs off.  The porn is just boring now.  The list is a waste of
time -- their assistants know better than they do what to get for
them.  He takes the butter off the list and emails it anyway.

Justin lays flat on the floor in the back lounge.  He's not used to
being alone.  He can barely remember being alone at all for years
and years.  He thought this would be a chance to talk to Lance and
get back to being friends.  In his fantasies, it was a chance to
tell Lance how much he wants him.  But whatever.  Now it's just a
chance to sweat.  

Lance sits there for a while before giving up.  He doesn't have
anything to do that's absorbing enough to keep his attention off
the heat.  As it is, about the only thing he's thinking of is that
he feels bad for being pissy to Justin who's just as hot and
completely incapable of dealing with being bored on his own.

He gets up and goes into the back.

Justin has his eyes closed tightly.  He's counting the starbursts
on the inside of his eyelids.  He has to keep his sanity.  Earlier
he almost started doing situps, which is, like, suicidal in this
bus.  

"Hey," Lance says and sits down on the floor next to Justin.

Justin's eyes pop open, watering and unfocused.  But it has to be
Lance.  "Hey, man."  

"Sorry.  I'm hot and easily annoyed."

"It's okay.  I'm hot and annoying."  Justin grins up at Lance.  

Lance lies down.  He sets the bottle of water he brought with him
on the floor between him.  "Yep."

Justin smiles sideways at Lance.  "Thanks for backin' me up there,
man."  

"Anytime.  Thanks for not sending Chris over here instead."

"Not a problem.  Actually, I kinda wanted to talk to you.  Like,
get back to being good friends, like we were before."  

Lance shifts to get comfortable and closes his eyes.  "It's not a
big mystery.  We used to get thrown together all the time as the
youngest and now we don't.  The division is by noise and interest
now."

"Yeah, but you're nearly as funny as Chris, only quieter.  And we
have to like some of the same things.  We both have businesses. 
Sort of."  Justin shrugs, his shoulders sticking to the floor.  

"In the sense that I'm always doing something with mine and that
you rely on other people to run yours, yes.  And you like Chris'
kind of humor better."

Justin sighs.  "I suppose so."  

"You don't like Chris better?"

"Depends for what."  

Lance thinks of waving his hands, but it's too hot for that.  He
considers waving his pinky, but Justin wouldn't see that, so it'd
be a waste of effort.  "For your kind of stuff.  Wrestling around. 
Video games.  Running around screaming."

"Yeah.  But for talking, not so much.  Chris is really smart, but
he doesn't like to talk about it.  And he thinks I'm still a kid,
so.  Not for a lot of things."  

"JC?"

"He's JC."

Lance snickers.  "The funny part is that I know exactly what you
mean.  I'm not really all that good to talk to either.  Joey's the
best.  Everyone knows that."

"He's yours, though.  He's all tuned to Lance, which is good.  But,
not, like easy for anyone else."  

"Joey's *what*?"

"He's all Lance tuned.  His answers are geared to you."  

"Oh."  Lance settles down.  "That isn't what I thought you meant."

"What'd you think I meant?"  

"That he was, y'know.  *Mine*."

"He, um.  He sort of is.  Isn't he?  I mean, the way you two act...
we sort of assumed..."  

"No!  Not even a little.  Lord.  Why didn't you just *ask*?"

"How exactly do you phrase that question to two people you're so
close to that you should *know* the answer already?" Justin asks,
waving his arm through the air.  

"Let Chris do it," Lance says drily.  "I'm sure he'd find a way. 
It'd probably be phrased in the crassest possible manner, but Lord
knows, he isn't shy."

Justin shrugs.  "Maybe.  Lance?  Are you gay at all?"'  

Lance chuckles.  "I suppose I deserve that.  Yeah.  More than a
little.  Not completely, but definitely at least part of the way
there."

"Okay."  Justin waits to see if Lance will ask back.  

"Anything else that should've been damn well obvious but isn't?"

"Brit's a dyke," Justin says.  "She makes me say 'dyke', by the
way, so don't get mad.  I said it was disrespectful and she says
she's reclaiming the word, so.  Whatever."  

"The usual rule of thumb is that, if you belong to the group in
question, you can use any derogatory term you like.  You waiting
for me to ask about you or something?  I still remember your crush
on Chris from back in Germany."

"Yeah, but then I said I was straight.  But I'm not.  I'm, like. 
Gay.  Or something."  Justin shrugs a little, still uncomfortable
saying it out loud.  "Mostly.  I fucked Brit, and it was kinda fun,
but not really that hot.  But when I watched her and her
girlfriend, that was hot."  

"Well, knowing you know you're gay is new.  But other than that?" 
Lance doesn't waste energy on a shrug.  "Figured as much."

"You figured that..." Justin trails off muttering to himself about
self-important people who are too smart for their own good.  

"Once you've had cock, you don't go back?  I dunno.  I guess I
thought you don't just get over having sexy feelings about members
of your own gender.  You maybe learn to bury them so you can have
a relationship with someone of the opposite sex, but you don't just
stop thinking something's sexy."

Justin rolls onto his side.  "You're really damn smart.  How did
you get so smart?"  

Lance feels Justin move and opens his eyes.  "I don't know."

Justin looks at Lance.  "Hot, too," he murmurs to himself.  

Lance colors, not that it's all that evident in the heat.  "Hey."

Justin smiles shyly.  "Sorry.  It's just... I've kinda noticed,
like, how nice and smart you are.  Just noticing the whole package
now, though.  I'll, um.  Keep that to myself, okay?"  

Lance snorts.  "Stop teasing.  I almost bought it up until then. 
If you were gonna hit on me, you'd just do it.  You wouldn't be
all... cute about it."

Justin shrugs.  "I remember that I'm the youngest around you."  

"Thought that was around Chris because he won't stop reminding you
about it."

"No, he makes me feel challenged."  Justin smiles a little.  "I can
just hit on you, though.  You *are* very hot."  

Lance lifts his eyebrows.  His tone is half-challenging,
half-amused.  "Yeah?  'Cause I always figured that, if you were
gonna hit on somebody, you'd be all, 'I'm Justin Timberlake and
you're gonna love me.'"

"Um.  I'm Justin Timberlake and you're gonna date me!"  Justin
considers.  "Only that doesn't work because you're, you know. 
Lance Bass."  

"You sure you want to date someone who believes you have an
enormous ego?" Lance purrs.

"I have an enormous something for you, right enough," Justin says. 
He pretends not to be all shivery at Lance's sex voice.  

Lance feigns surprise.  "You mean it's *grown* since I saw it last? 
My word."

Justin blushes.  "Lance!"  

"What?  I shared living space with you for years.  I looked."

"Is it okay?" Justin asks in a little voice.  

"What's with you?" Lance asks, rolling onto his side to get a good
look at Justin.  "You act like I'd be your first guy or something."

"No, of course, not.  I'm, like, Justin Timberlake and I can have
anyone I -- okay, yes."  

"Oh," Lance says, eyes widening.  "Wow."

"Sorry?" Justin tries.  "Look, Brit was my only girl.  I don't fuck
around.  I just don't *trust* people.  And, it's like, dirty."  He
covers his face with his hands.  "I'm such a loser."  

"There's nothing inherently *wrong* with not fucking around.  It's
just kinda unbelievable that anybody could and would resist that
much temptation.  And what's dirty?  I don't want to get blindsided
here by anything."

"Strangers.  I don't *know* them and they don't know me.  I'm just
meat to them.  I don't like it."  Justin shrugs a little.  "I never
had time to learn anyone well enough to be able to actually do it." 


"Oh.  Yeah, well, that's true enough."  Lance gives a little
vulpine grin.  "Sometimes that's the best part.  Being a piece of
meat."

"You wanna teach me?" Justin suggests.  "Because, like, even if
it's like that with you, I know you know me, and I trust you."  

"That's, um," Lance adjusts himself, "very tempting.  But if it's
gonna be casual, then let's let it be casual and if it's gonna be
something, let's let it be something.  I don't like the idea of
getting mostly involved with you only to hand you over to someone
else."

"You'd date me for real?" Justin asks hopefully.  

"Dating to include but not be limited to sex, seeing each other in
a non-business context and an assumption of monogamy for the
duration with the possibility of actual meaning?"

"Please?" Justin asks.  

There's something about the look on Justin's face that Lance has
never properly appreciated before.  Real doubt.  "Yeah.  That'd be
cool."

Justin grins.  "Whoo!  Um.  Can I have a kiss?"  

"You're dating me now.  You don't have to ask."

Justin grins and kisses Lance.  "I think I'm gonna like dating
you."  

Lance draws Justin down into another kiss.  He thinks he's gonna
like it, too.