Pairing: Justin and Chris
Words: feedback; navy; dissolve; macabre


"I'm going to join the navy," Justin announces.

Everyone else in the room gives Chris a look.  It's the 'you handle
it; he's your problem' look.  Chris isn't really sure anymore how
he got elected to the position.  If anything, he'd always thought
he and Lance were closer, at least in the early days.  But somehow,
that partnership's dissolved and it's two pairs: Joey and Lance,
and Chris and Justin when it comes to dealing with problems.

Maybe because Joey needs taking care of more than Lance does, but
honestly, Chris has no idea how he got saddled with the ungrateful
wretch.

"Have fun.  Thanks for not asking us about it, dickhead."

"It'd be good for PR.  And, like, I wanna do something for my
country."

"Uh-huh.  And after the Simpsons, the Navy is just sooo
believable."  Chris starts singing the 'Yvan Eht Nioj' song.  It's
kinda catchy.

Justin flushes.  "Well, y'all don't want me.  I might as well go
somewhere I can do something!"

Lance has been quietly clearing the room.  He gives Chris a
sympathetic smile and a pat on his shoulder.  Sometimes Chris
really loves Lance.  "In case it's escaped your attention, we're --
or we were -- sitting here planning a tour.  Just because we don't
want to do one of your songs -- note, just *one* out of the many,
many songs you've got a writing credit on -- you're off to join the
Navy.  Really fucking mature."

"No, that's -- that's not it.  And I didn't mean right *now*. 
After.  And you can scrap all my songs, I don't care."

"So this is just some sort of random idea you came up with,
completely unrelated to you sulking because Lance doesn't like your
song and we agreed with him instead of you?"

"Right.  And I thought of this before."

"But somehow, this was the best time to bring it up?"

"Uh."  Justin frowns and thinks about it.  "No?"

"Well, at least you got that part right."

"So, um.  I'm sorry for mentioning it at the wrong time?"

"Too late.  Now you tell me why now."

"I told you.  Because y'all don't want me and I want to do
something good for once."

"Spoiled brat," Chris mutters.  "Look, we can't do a damn thing
without you.  And, yeah, maybe we'd like you a whole helluva lot
better if you weren't the kind of diva who throws a fit in front of
the suits just because he feels like it, but you're necessary."

"Not after this tour.  Not if what JC wants to do and what Lance
wants to do and what Joey wants to do gets done."

"No, maybe not," Chris agrees.  "Of course, there is that whole
solo album thing you came up with in the first place that made
everyone start making plans to do without you, since you obviously
didn't need *us* anymore, but who cares about minor details like
that?"

Justin nods a little.  Never mind that everyone told him it was a
good idea.  Never mind that the guys all -- together and
individually -- told him it was okay to try.  Never mind Johnny's
talk of no more Nsync albums until Justin had a solo album out. 
"It sucked."

"What sucked?"

"The solo thing."

"You haven't even done it yet."

Justin shrugs.  "I'm clairvoyant."

Chris sighs.  "You know what?  Okay, fine.  I'm tired of dealing
with this shit and if that's what you really want, then fine. 
Everyone's already got other stuff to do, we'll be okay.  Just. 
Get some better timing.  That's all I'm saying."

"Yeah.  Okay."  Justin nods.  "I'm sorry I just kinda broke it like
that.  I'll go apologize to the guys and we can get back to
planning."

Chris nods and gets up himself.  He needs a drink.  Or maybe not a
drink.  Just a nice quiet wall to bang his head against.

Justin goes and apologizes.  The high tension dissolves.  After
all, isn't Justin always throwing diva fits?

Chris goes and leans his head against a nice cool wall and doesn't
come back.

Justin doesn't say anything for the rest of the meeting.

Chris eventually goes back, because he doesn't have a choice, but
he's uncomfortably aware the entire time that Justin is upset. 
Trying to be graceful about it, but upset nonetheless.  Chris has
a lot of experience at reading Justin.  And it's still his job to
do something about it.

So after the meeting, Chris catches Justin by the sleeve, even
though he's envious of Lance with Joey's arm around his shoulder. 
He doesn't know when , or if, things are ever going to get to the
point where somebody's taking care of him.

"C'mon, J.  Let's blow this joint."

Justin looks at Chris in surprise.  "Aren't you going to that
restaurant with Joey and Lance?"  They'd made the plans as the
meeting was started.  Chris had been really excited.

"Nah.  Healthy food makes my stomach cramp.  Besides, I thought
maybe you'd like some company."

"Chris, I'm fine.  Really.  You don't have to take care of me.  Go
out and have fun, man."  Justin hugs Chris quickly.  "You should
have fun.  It's good for you."

"Hey, are you implying time spent with you isn't fun?" Chris asks,
poking Justin in the ribs where he's most ticklish.  "Because, if
so, I'd like to get this in writing."

"It probably won't be.  I've got another meeting in an hour.  So
you might as well go with the guys, anyway."  Justin smiles and
sidles away from Chris.  "And stop that or I'll have to beat you
down."

Chris huffs.  "Forgive me for wanting to spend time with one of my
friends."

"No!  No, Chris, it's a good idea.  But, like, maybe tonight?  And
you can go with the guys and hit that place.  I'll be home tonight,
and we'll order pizza and drink beer, okay?"

"I can just kinda tag along with you.  Throw stuff at you during
your meeting.  That kind of thing."

"It's about the solo album.  You sure you wanna come?"

Chris nods.  "You wanna get out of it, right?  I can help you be
strong and resist their evil ways."

"No, you can't.  I already signed on the dotted line."

Chris frowns.  "So when are you going to have time to join the
Navy?"

"After.  Never.  Whatever."

"I don't get it."

Justin smiles over his bitterness.  "Nah, it's confusing dude. 
After our tour, then my tour, then another NSYNC tour.  Then I'll
have time."

"But why get everyone all upset over something you're maybe never
gonna have time to do?"

"I didn't mean to make everyone upset.  Y'all were just talking
about what you wanted to do."  Justin shrugs.  "I'm a spoiled brat,
that's why."

That's wrong too.  If Justin *knew* he was a spoiled brat, then he
could be dealt with.  It's the not knowing that gets them into all
the trouble.  "Would you rather..." Chris asks tentatively, "that
we not do our tour at all?"

"No.  I love NSYNC.  I love touring with Nsync.  I need it."

"Except you're miserable."

"No, I'm not.  I don't have anything at all to be miserable about." 
Justin makes his way back into the meeting room knowing he'll have
to be there early or they'll decide things without him even
knowing.

Chris follows him, frowning thoughtfully.  Obviously Justin's in
denial, and equally obviously, Chris has no idea what's going on.

"I mean, it's a dream come true, right?  I get to do my own stuff,
and I still get to be part of the group.  We all get time to do
what we want to do, and time to get ready for it.  And I'll tour
and be worshipped by the masses," Justin rambles, wandering around
the room, straightening chairs and stacks of paper.

"Uh-huh.  Except nobody needs you and you're not making a
difference."  Chris *has* been listening.

"I was just being a bitch."

"Not buying that."

"Why not?  You call me a bitch all the time."  Justin grins.  "I
was proving you right."

"Maybe I don't wanna be right.  Maybe I'm sorry for not listening
when you tell me you have a problem."

Justin sighs.  "I don't have a problem, Chris.  I'm gratified that
you listened to me.  I think I was probably just trying to get some
attention.  Thanks for giving it to me."

The suits arrive and the meeting is on.  Justin's recording and
touring schedule is on the agenda for today, as well as possible
touring partners.  Mostly, Justin's there to listen and tell them
how long things will take.  He always exaggerates, knowing they'll
want it done faster.  Nothing new.  But when they start talking
about the myriad people he could possibly produce with, Justin gets
interested.  And then, suddenly, he's going to produce with *all*
of them.  It's gonna be an interesting album with so many different
styles.  Justin looks at it as interesting instead of inconsistent. 
He can't get out of it now, may as well find the bright side. 
Finally the meeting ends, and they're free to go.

Chris doesn't say anything until they're safely away.  Out of the
building and into Justin's car.  Chris is gonna have to come back
for his, but that's okay.  It's not like he doesn't have a towncar
company on speed dial.  "You look like you love it," he says.

"Of course I do."  It's his job to love it.

"No, I mean."  Chris sighs.  "I was expecting you to be pretending
to love it, but all secretly unhappy at the same time.  But you
really were excited about producing the album."

"Sure, of course.  I'll be working with so many talented people." 
Justin keeps his eyes on the road.  He's disappointed that they
didn't approve his request to have JC produce a track or two.

"So, um.  You're doing great.  You don't really need us at all."

Justin counts to ten.  "I need you.  I love NSYNC."

Chris gives him a little smile.  "You don't.  Or not me anyway. 
It's my own fault, I think."

"Why the fuck wouldn't I love you?  You're my best fucking friend." 
It's painful.  That Chris doesn't know Justin loves him.  That
Chris doesn't trust Justin to love him.

"Then why are you telling me lies like I'm a reporter from J-14 or
something?"

"Because my shit should not be your problem.  I won't *let* it hurt
you.  It's not meant to hurt you.  The fucking point is that it
never gets to you to hurt you, okay?  Just let me do my half-assed
best to protect you, okay?"  Justin's car seems to know where it's
going, which is a good thing since Justin's so out of control he
could be driving sideways and not notice.

Chris sits there in silence for a long, long moment, absorbing
that.  Yeah, Justin just said what Chris thought he heard. 
Believing it takes longer though.  He manages eventually, but it's
a stretch.  It's not something he'd ever thought to believe. 
"You're trying to protect *me*?"

Justin's tone is defensive when he answers, and maybe a little
defeated, too.  "I know it's stupid.  I just wanted to try.  I just
want to."  He shakes his head.

"No, no," Chris assures him hurriedly.  "It's not that.  It's...
look, as long as we've been at this, maybe before -- nobody's ever
thought about protecting me.  It's always me protecting somebody
else.  My sisters.  You guys.  You.  I'm just... wow.  Y'know?"

Justin nods, pulling into their community.  "I know.  That's kinda
why.  You took such good care of me when I needed it."

"Nah.  I took shitty care of you.  I still am."

Justin just shakes his head and parks.  "Look, this is getting
macabre.  Let's just go inside, eat pizza and drink beer, okay?"

Chris sighs.  "Yeah.  Sure, fine, whatever."

Justin bites his nails as the go into the house.  Then he stops and
faces Chris.  "Look, I'm real sorry that I did something wrong. 
I'm just trying... just trying, I guess.  I don't know what to do
now.  So, uh.  If you could give me suggestions or something, I'd
really appreciate it."

Chris shrugs.  "Dunno.  I was trying to apologize to you, but that
didn't work out too well.  I don't have a script for this either."

Justin hugs Chris suddenly.  "Look.  You're way important to me. 
I don't want anything to ever make you unhappy.  But, since I can't
really control that, I'm just doing my best to keep you happy while
I can."

Chris hugs him back.  "Okay.  But, y'know, I'm all for you being
happy, too."

"Doesn't always work out that way.  You made me happy a lot when
you weren't happy yourself."

"Taking joy out of my misery.  I always knew you were an evil
little snot."

"Sure I am."

Chris noogies Justin's head, but he feels better.

Justin thinks that maybe he's managed the situation all right. 
"So, beer and pizza?" he asks, shoving Chris down to the floor in
retaliation for the noogie.  He kneels over Chris and starts
tickling right away, too.

"Only good beer!" Chris shouts, beating off Justin's hands.  "None
of your fancy imported beer."

Justin ducks down and blows a raspberry on Chris's shoulder.  "Fuck
that."

"Hey, baby boy," Chris says, grinning, "you should be happy that
I'm the only one who doesn't.  Now order me my pizza.  And beer! 
I want cheap ass American pisswater!"

"You want calorie explosion pizza, too, I suppose."

"With extra pepperoni."

"Of course."  Justin leans over Chris's head to get the portable. 
He always forgets to hang it up when he leaves.

Chris seizes the opportunity to tickle the taut abdomen stretched
temptingly above him.

Justin curls defensively, bumping his head on the floor.  "Hey!" 
He whacks Chris with the phone in retaliation.

"Ow!" Chris rolls away from Justin.  "Take your violent tendencies
out on someone else.  I was playing."

Justin sighs and orders from flat on the floor.

Chris sits up and waits.

Justin hangs up and closes his eyes, forgetting Chris for a second.

"You gonna stop pretending anytime soon that something isn't
wrong?"

Justin's eyes pop open.  "Huh?"

Chris waves a hand.  "Hello?  Me, over here?  Got pounded by the
telephone for tickling you and currently being ignored."

"Dude, did I hurt you?" Justin asks.  "I totally didn't mean to."

"I'm not fatally wounded or anything, but that was definitely a 'go
the fuck away' kind of hit."

Justin rolls over, inspecting Chris.  "I'm so sorry, man."

"I'll live.  I'm just wondering what not to do in order to keep it
from happening again.  Y'know."

"I'm sorry.  I don't know."

"Okay."  Chris picks himself up and heads for the kitchen.

Justin follows after.  Chris is at the fridge.  Justin smiles a
little because there's only domestic beer in it.

Chris pulls a can out, glaring at it suspiciously, like maybe
Justin's had imported beer canned as the good stuff.  He opens it
and drinks.  "Ahh, the sweet swill of Milwaukee."

Justin laughs.

Chris turns and grins at him.  "Developing taste, J?"

"I'm still friends with you.  You take it from there."

"Aww, how sweet.  Do you have a toothbrush with my name on it in
the bathroom?"

"No.  But I have a whole bunch of new ones in there."

"Eh, they're probably all yours."

"Nope.  They're in plastic and everything.  You can use every
single one if you want to."

"If I ever decide to brush my teeth, I'll keep that in mind."

"Good deal.  Pass me a beer?"

Chris grabs another one out and hands it over.

Justin pops the top and starts drinking.  "So.  You finally decided
to stop yelling at me about the liquor, huh?"

Chris looks at the beer.  "One American beer with pizza isn't gonna
kill anyone.  Two or three won't either.  It's the casual and
routine knocking back of large amounts of the hard stuff while in
public that worries me."

"And the underage thing," Justin adds.

"Only if you get caught.  Again, it's the reckless disregard and
drunkenness that bothers me, not the mere presence of alcohol."

"Okay."

"Besides, who ever said it was you I'm worried about?"

"No, I know.  It's the group image and all.  I know."

"That, too.  I meant Lance, though."

"Oh.  Does that mean you didn't know JC was talking to me?"

"Not in a specific talking to sort of way, no."

"Oh.  Huh."

"Do I wanna know?"

"Oh, he just came to talk to me about responsibility and
appearances and being a role model and a public figure.  He kept
saying 'we'.  Like 'we think this'.  I thought you must be the
other part of the we."

"Nope.  Not to say that isn't true, but I don't think it's
something you're likely to forget."

"Okay.  Must have meant Joey, then."

"Could be, only he's half the reason I worry about Lance.  'Cause
Joe doesn't know the difference between dangerous drinking and safe
drinking.  He's a teddy bear all the time -- it'd never occur to
him that it could be taken too far."

Justin nods.  "I know.  He's so sweet when he's drunk."

"Yep.  And he assumes that everyone's the same way.  Or creeps. 
And he wouldn't think any of his friends were creeps."

"We're not."

"No.  But that doesn't mean we can't have problems."

"True."

"So, yeah.  Have a beer with your pizza.  If you get out of hand,
I'll toss you in the pool or something."

"Yeah, right, little man.  Come pick out a movie."

"Got any animated porn?"

"Probably.  Joey brought some over a while ago."

"Woohoo!  Nothing better than outrageously oversized boobies.  Plus
the soundtracks are better."

"True again."

Chris settles in on the couch.  This isn't exactly what he had in
mind for his day, but it's been too long since he's done it.  He'd
forgotten, kinda, how much he likes spending time with Justin.

Justin finds the correct DVD and puts it in the player, then
sprawls on the opposite end of the couch.

The movie's funny, and Chris does his usual thing, which is to talk
over the dialogue and point out absurd or outrageous things. 
Justin's one of the few people who won't go nuts when he does that.

Justin listens, pretending Chris's voice is the soundtrack of the
movie.  It's way, way funnier that way.

"And then he says, 'Wow, what a big cock you have.'"

"Dude.  How can straight men watch this, get off on chicks with
dicks, and still say gay is gross?"

"It's all about the boobies.  As long as there's boobies, it's
okay.  This explains the high rate of gayness among sumo
wrestlers."

Justin snickers and pokes Chris with his toes.

"Also, it's a well known fact that you aren't gay unless you're the
one getting fucked or the one doing the sucking and you like it. 
As long as you don't like it, it's not gay."

"Is that why some gay guys act so pissed off?  They're pretending
not to like it?"

"Well.  They're also pricks.  But, yeah.  As long as you don't like
it, you can claim to be straight and enjoy all the straight guy
privileges.  Once you start liking it though, then you're in big
trouble.  Unless you're doing the fucking or getting sucked.  Then
it's not gay."

"That's stupid."

"Don't blame me, I didn't come up with it.  Marilyn Manson did."

"Still stupid."

"But true."

"Stupid."

"Why do you care anyway?  Got a sudden hankering to suck dick?"

"Nope."  Not sudden at all.

"Then no problem.  But it's the way the world works.  Double
standards and mixed up rules.  In the immortal words of Billy
Crystal, 'It's better to look good than to feel good.'"

Justin's about to answer when the doorbell rings.  Deep thoughts
are put aside in favor of deep dish.  For a while, everything feels
right.