JC wasn't crazy about it, but Justin made his own decisions now. He was an adult, after all.

"Dude, what do you think?" Justin asked him.  JC had witnessed a heavy round of flirtation during a Playstation battle.

"Chris is cool," JC said, and smiled.  He looked down at his notebook, then back up when Justin didn't move.  He sighed. "What?"

"I don't think you're hip with this," Justin said. JC could tell that Justin was searching his face for clues.

"It's your decision, J.  Chris is a good guy. You'll have fun together."  JC nodded once, effectively ending the conversation, and opened his book.

"But...?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," JC muttered; he'd hoped to avoid this discussion.  And when had his opinion become so important?

"C, just be honest. Christ."

"OK, to be perfectly honest, I think it's weird. It's weird and creepy that a 29 year-old man flirts with his 20 year-old friend while they play video games. If I didn't know him, or if we were out in the regular world, yeah, I'd probably warn you against this. But," JC shrugged, "he's a friend of ours. I don't think he'll dick you over, so yeah. Go crazy."

"Wow," Justin said, rolling his eyes, "thanks for that rousing show of support, dude,"

"Look." JC set his book aside. "You can do what you want, J. You don't have to come to me for approval, you know. You like Chris, you go for it. It's that simple."

They had a mini stare-down, and Justin finally looked away. "You really think it's creepy?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Do I say things I don't mean?" JC asked, and it was Justin's turn to sigh.

"Fuck, C. Well--"  Justin nodded decisively.  "I'm going for it."

"I'm not telling you not to." JC retrieved his book.

"Are you going to be cool with it? I mean, I'll know that you're secretly creeped out, but it won't like, render you unable to eat, or sing and dance, will it?"

JC shot a sidelong glance in Justin's direction, amused that true concern was written on Justin's face.  "Believe it or not, J, you dating Chris isn't going to affect my ability to perform simple tasks."  Until Justin grinned, JC wasn't sure he'd caught the sarcasm.

Justin cocked his head and turned slant-eyed and sly. "Mmmmm, dating." He began to roll his hips to an imaginary beat. "Dating.  And kissing.  And fucking...."

"You freaks are made for each other."  JC cast a glance at Justin's twitching hips. "Keep that up and you'll impregnate yourself," he added.

He'd gotten comfortable with Chris and Justin's thing, as he figured he would, and he didn't even notice now if he happened upon them sucking face in the Quiet Room, or being less than considerate in their bunks on the bus. He didn't get it, but Chris made Justin happy, so he was cool with it.

"Justin gets all these sexy pose things," Lance said, looking at the latest magazine spread featuring Justin reclining, looking doe-eyed and sexy for the camera.  "Why don't they ever pose Jace like that?"

Joey snorted. "Magazine racks across America would spontaneously combust."

"Teenies across America would spontaneously combust," Lance added.

"Guys, stop," JC murmured, heat rising to his cheeks.

Chris pinched JC's leg. "Man, I don't think pictures would be possible. The film would melt in the cameras." He winked at JC, and JC blushed.

"What, JC's sexier than I am?" Justin asked, taking the magazine and evaluating his own body. "Jace is all skinny and shit. I'm buff," he said with a cocky grin.

"Yeah, but JC's got that innocent, slightly-lost vibe," Joey said. "Chicks dig that shit. Stretch that long, tight body out, pop his biceps, let the wifebeater ride up to show a little of that JC skin--" he made a sweeping motion with his hand. "Jace would clean your ass up, dude."

Justin's eyes widened as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Justin, look at him. Those eyes, that wild, curly hair spread out on a pillow?" Lance gave JC a heated look. "Fuck, yeah."

"You're serious!" Justin looked offended.

JC raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm not sexy?"

"Hell, yeah, you're sexy," Chris said.

"Hmmm, I guess I wouldn't kick your ass out of bed," Justin relented with a grin and a wink.  Chris looked less than pleased.

That comment, JC thought later, had probably signaled the end of the TimberTrick era.

Lance, cool, beautiful Lance, slipped under JC's carefully constructed defenses one day when he'd been minding his own business.  He'd been writing notes in the margin of a book on music theory when Lance had stepped quietly into the room.

"Hey." Lance's low, soft voice hit all the right spots along JC's spine to make him shiver.

"Hey," JC returned.

"So," Lance said. "You want a blow job?  I haven't had a dick in my mouth for ages, and I don't think you've gotten laid for a while. What do you think?"

JC tried not to look shocked, but probably failed, if Lance's raised eyebrows and sudden laughter were any clue.

"Man, relax! I didn't mean to give you a heart attack or anything." Lance sat beside him, solid, warm and gorgeous. "I'm horny and I want to be with someone I actually care about, that's all. The fact that you're fuckin' sexy helps, though."

JC laughed. "Bass." He shook his head.

"What, you don't think I'm serious?" Lance smiled and leaned close to whisper soft and hot into JC's ear. "I give really, really, really good head. Just ask Joey." He licked around the delicate rim of JC's ear.

"Um," JC said, and shivered. His book fell to the floor.

"Dude.  Lance?" Justin asked the next day, the day after JC could personally attest to the fact that Lance gave really, really, really good head.

"Yeah, Lance. What's wrong with that?" JC sat, book in hand, pages bent from being trampled underfoot in his and Lance's haste to reach the bed.

"Well, duh, he's Lance," Justin responded, as though that said it all.

JC placed the bookmark between the pages. "OK, what does that mean?"

Justin shrugged. "He's like, the most boring guy on the planet." He pushed a finger at JC's chest. "Besides you, that is."

"I'll pretend you didn't say that.  And anyway, Lance isn't boring, J. He's into business and stuff, but he's not boring. I can swear to that."

"You're telling me the boy has mad skills in the sack?" Justin cackled.  "Excuse me if I don't believe it."

"Not asking you to; I know the truth. And anyway, there's more to a relationship than mad sack skills, as you so delicately put it."

"Jeez, Jace, don't you want a little excitement in your relationships?  Something more exciting than like, filling out your tax returns together?"

"Hey," JC replied, "I think I take offense at you kind of talking smack about a guy that might be my boyfriend or something."

Justin snorted.  "Yeah, way to be decisive there, Jace."

"Hey."

They both looked up. Lance was standing in the doorway, obviously on his way somewhere else.

"Lance," Justin greeted him, lips quirking up at the corners.

"J," Lance said, then turned to JC and smiled. "Hey beautiful, wanna do something after the show?"

JC blushed and ignored Justin's soft guffaw. "Yeah, that sounds like a plan. What'd ya have in mind?"

"Well, I've got some tricks I didn't show you last night," Lance said, and wiggled his eyebrows. "And J, no trash-talking the boyfriend, ok?" He winked and grinned and disappeared.

JC's blush deepened, and he couldn't hide his smile. "So.  Apparently, I have a hot blond boyfriend now."  He tried not to look too pleased.

"Hmph," was Justin's only reply.

"How does he do that?" Joey mused. "J, how the fuck do you do that?"  They were watching the Madison Square Garden tape again; the end of Justin's beatbox routine always received extra attention.

They all knew the story, that he'd been watching breakdancers in some 70's movie, he'd tried a few of the moves, and that one stuck. He'd shown them how to do the odd, circular body-roll foot manuever, but none of them could do it like Justin except JC, who'd been breakdancing before all of them. Coupled with the purely sexual slow hip thrust at the end...

"So, why don't my hips move like that?" Chris asked, and rose from the couch to try it, as he did every time they watched the tape.

"Because you're not a genetic freak like Timba-Timba here," Lance laughed, prodding Justin in the side.

"Hey, I've got mad dance skills, and you've got mad skills in the sack, or so I'm told," Justin said.

"That he does," JC agreed, leaning back against Lance's legs to give Lance a bright smile.  Lance leaned forward and they kissed as their bandmates faked gagging responses. 

"Just for the record," Chris said, "Timba-Timba's got mad sack skills, too." His eyes twinkled, and Justin flushed a little.

"Oh yeah?" JC raised an eyebrow at Justin, who blushed. "Rewind the tape, let's get another look at those sexy hips," he teased.

Lance wasn't laughing when he stood suddenly and left the room.

Joey was a surprise. He was a nice guy, and JC adored him, but.

The first time he stumbled in and saw Joey in a liplock with Justin, JC's jaw dropped.  "Sorry, sorry," he mumbled, and backed quickly out of the room.

"Uh," JC looked up when a sheepish Justin entered his hotel room a few minutes later. "That had to be weird, hunh," Justin said.

"Just a little," JC admitted.  "Well, maybe a lot.  I mean, you and Joey."  JC scratched his head.  "That's almost weirder than when you were with Chris, to be honest."

"Hey! Don't diss the Elf Man; he was a pretty good boyfriend. Least he was 'til he started lusting for your skinny ass," Justin said, nudging JC's legs until he shifted on the couch.  When JC made room, Justin dropped down beside him.  "Why's it so weird?" Justin asked.  "Me and Joey, I mean."

"Well, you're not a busty, over-painted blonde skank, for one," JC said, frowning a little as he re-read the crossword clue for 41 Down.

"Well, he's not all about busty blonde skanks, then, is he?" Justin replied in a smug tone of voice.  JC looked up and pinned him with a glance.

"You don't think this is a bit sudden?  I mean, I've kissed him, but I know that he's mostly--"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Justin held up his hand. "Back the fuck up." JC looked at him patiently. "You kissed Joey?"

JC shrugged. "Yeah, he's good, isn't he?  Must be why he's a killer with the chicks, something about him just gives off that vibe, ya know?  You know he's going to be good in bed."  He went back to his crossword.

"Say what?" Justin took the pen out of JC's hand, and JC looked up. "You and Joey fucked?"  Justin was looking less and less happy with the situation. "I thought you said you guys only kissed?"

JC was puzzled. "What? I did not. I said I'd kissed him, I but I didn't specify how many kisses or what else was going on at the time. What're you pissed about?"

Justin's eyes were huge and dark, and he gestured wildly as he spoke.  "Jesus, where should I start?  Let's see, you've kissed my boyfriend, and apparently you've fucked my boyfriend. When did all this happen, and why didn't you tell me?  What's with the secrecy?"

Irritated, JC snatched his pen from Justin's fingers. "I didn't tell you because it happened years ago. We'd just gotten together as a group, dude, and that was some drama the rest of you didn't need, ok?" 

"But...I can't believe you haven't said anything since."  Justin looked truly hurt.  "I tell you everything.  Fuck, you didn't think you could trust me?" 

"Justin, it was so long ago that I just haven't thought about it since. He left me for girls, man," JC sighed.  "Not one girl in particular, but girls, plural.  He likes dick every now and then, but Joey is hopelessly addicted to females.  You know that."

"You think he'd cheat on me?"

"He never cheated on me, but I knew that limiting himself to one girl was hard enough; limiting himself to one guy was probably going to be impossible."  JC shrugged. "I cut him loose. We're still friends, and I love him like crazy, but he's Joey, bro. That's all I can tell you."

Justin nodded, his big hands clasped loosely in his lap. 

"Justin," he stopped when he met Justin's eyes. "Truthfully?  My opinion, and my opinion only, is that Joey likes girls too much to settle for being with a guy. And if Joey preferred guys, he'd like them too much to be with just one. I think that if you're looking for something long term, and someone you can trust, no, it's not Joey."

Justin nodded again, kept nodding as his hands began to twist over themselves. JC rubbed his shoulder. "I love him like crazy, he's a sweetheart, but...God, J, I don't know everything. Do what you feel in your heart, ok?"

"You said that about Chris," Justin mumbled, "and look how that turned out."

"I'm sorry, Justin, really."

"I feel in my heart that I should kick Joey in the balls." Justin huffed out a breath and rubbed his eyes. "This will go down as my shortest relationship so far."

"How long?"

"Two weeks." Justin looked up at JC. "How long did he last with you?"

"Three months." JC smiled.  "Three pretty nice months."  There'd been long kisses, fumbling touches, and lots of laughter.  "Be cool when you let him down, ok? He's a nice guy, he can't help the way he's wired."  He gave Justin's shoulder another gentle squeeze.  "He's the one who's going to miss out in the long run."

The first time Justin flopped on JC's bed wearing a goofy grin, his face slightly pink and his t-shirt inside out and backwards, JC laughed and said, "See?  Really, really, really good blowjobs." Justin closed his eyes, made a happy humming noise in his throat, and went to sleep.  JC had been better prepared for Lance. He'd seen the flirtation, like he had with Chris, but Lance was closer to Justin's age, and Justin had gained some relationship experience.

"OK, opinion time," Justin said groggily when he woke up an hour after he'd stumbled into JC's room. He tugged off his t-shirt while JC laughed.

"Lance is a good boyfriend," JC said. "He's a good guy, he'll look out for you."

"He's got a weird thing about you and me, though, doesn't he? Because we're close." Justin peered at his t-shirt, and turned it right side out.

"Mmm, yeah, but it's been a while," JC mused. "I think he might be over it. I mean, you and me, we've known each other since the Ice Age." He grinned. "Just avoid comments about how sexy I am, and stuff like that, and you'll be ok."

"I was surprised that he was so--" the rest of Justin's words were lost as he pulled the t-shirt back over his head.

"Sensitive?" JC scratched his chin. "Yeah, but it's you, so..." he shrugged.

"But that's dumb. He and Joey share a skin, and I'm not threatened by that." Justin stretched out on the bed, his head pillowed on his crossed arms. "Does he get all funky when I'm with Chris?"

"You mean is he threatened that you're still tight with Chris and you used to be together?" Justin nodded, and JC thought for a moment. "I don't think so. I think he's kinda glad that you've got someone to cut loose with. Since, you know, he's not so good with the cutting loose."

"Unless it's parties, drinking, or sex," Justin grinned.

"Uh, yeah." JC's face felt warm. "So, I think he's cool with Chris."

"Hmm," was Justin's only comment. He looked thoughtful.

JC smiled indulgently when he saw them trading brief kisses when they thought no one was looking, and he laughed when Chris rolled his eyes and started talking loudly about "damn kids, think they invented sex."  Though he wouldn't have believed it at first, Justin and Lance seemed to be a pretty good match. 

"Holy fuck, Jace," Chris said when JC stepped into the room to show off his latest purchase. He hadn't been sure about the lilac lambskin pants, but the close fit and the color - just this side of girly, thank you very much - overruled his thrift. They were comfortable, despite the fact that he looked like he'd been poured into them, and the frank approval in his bandmates' eyes convinced him that he'd made the right decision.

"Come here, little boy, I wanna lick you," Joey purred.

JC preened. "Think you could handle it?" he asked, giving Joey an incendiary look.

"You know I could," Joey replied, grinning.  Justin blushed.  It was the first time since JC'd revealed their history that Justin had seen them flirting together. 

"So," JC asked, sliding a hand down his thigh, turning his leg outward to check the inside seam, "think I can get laid wearing these pants?"  And now they were all looking at the inside of his thigh and higher, and he was hard. He got hard if his morning latte was just right, so no surprise there.

"First you'd have to skin yourself out of them." Chris coughed and shifted in his seat.

"Or let someone else skin you out of them," Lance said.

"No shit," Justin said, and JC warmed under Justin's appreciative gaze. "Jace, you are one sexy bitch."

He had a sense of deja vu when Lance, silent and stony-faced, rose from his seat and left the room.

JC found Justin crashed on the couch in his hotel room. "Would you tell your crack smoking, monkeyfuck of an ex-boyfriend to fuckin' leave me alone?"

Justin grinned. "Has he finally made his move?"

JC looked bewildered. "If by 'made his move' you mean prank calls, gag gifts and bottles of bad wine, then yes." JC shook his head. "Wait. What do you mean, 'made his move'?"

"Whaddya think, doofus?"

JC dropped down beside Justin. "You're not serious. Chris is...is wooing me? This is what he thinks will win me over?"

Justin rolled his eyes. "Dude, how did Chris woo me?"

"Jesus, Justin, Chris knows me better than to think that fart jokes, video games and macho motorcycle talk is going to impress me."

Justin looked amused. "OK, what has he done. What was the call about?"

JC rubbed his forehead. "Um, he gave me a wake-up call the other day, and he had Billie Holiday playing in the background. He pretended to be her, saying stupid shit like, 'Rise and shine, sugar, and get yourself some strange fruit for breakfast.' "

"Yeah?  That's kind of cute."

"Justin, that song's about lynchings in the South."

Justin paled. "Oh."

"Southern trees bear strange fruit/Blood on the leaves and blood at the root/Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze/Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees," JC sang.  "Yeah, so. You know, not funny."

"Holy fuck, dude, I'm sure he didn't know."

"I'm sure he didn't," JC agreed.

"So, what was the gag gift? It had to be better than that."

"A coffee table book on Walt Disney cartoons. As the note said, 'I know you like art, and this is some good stuff, plus you're a graduate of the school of Mouse. Enjoy!' "

Justin held back a laugh. "He really wrote that? Come on, man, that's cute."

"God, he thinks animation ranks right up there with Monet, Kandinsky and Sargent." JC dropped his head in his hands. "I'm being wooed by a Philistine."

"Do I even want to hear about the wine?" Justin asked, patting JC's arm. JC rolled his eyes.

"One of those weird flavored-wine concoctions that first came out in like the 70's or something.  Boone's Farm. Strawberry." JC had to laugh when Justin collapsed on the bed, weak with belly laughter.

"Boone's Farm!  I love that stuff!  Oh my god," and Justin went weak with another bout of laughter.

"So, yeah, he's bugging the shit out of me," JC looked down at the toes of his shoes.

"Give him a chance," Justin said, quieting down to a grin. "He's a good guy, and he really likes you; I think he has for a while, now."

JC angled his head. "Maybe," and tried to hide his smile.

"Not maybe," Justin smiled again, a softer smile. "I think you'd be good together. You already love him like crazy."

"I love all of you like crazy."

Justin nudged him gently. "So give him a chance."

"We'll see," JC said airily, and tried to look mysterious.  Justin just laughed.

They stood in front of the practice mirrors, running through the choreography for No Strings Attached. They whistled and cat-called each other during the hip grinds, each trying to out-do the others. JC and Justin turned theirs slow and nasty; JC parted his lips and closed his eyes to add to the effect.

"That's my baby," Chris crooned, and JC winked at him and licked his lips. Chris groaned, "Fuck." 

JC glanced at Justin in the mirror and grinned.  "What'd I tell you about impregnating yourself?"  JC threw a look over his shoulder at Chris and turned slightly, one hand sliding down his body as he ground his hips slowly in an unmistakable rhythm.

"Damn, C," Justin growled, "keep wigglin' that ass and I'm gonna impregnate you."

That night, JC was single again.

"So." Justin dropped down on the bed.

"Hey, artiste at work here, dude," JC warned him, and shifted the box of watercolor sticks that Justin had nearly upended. He'd gotten over being shy at any of them seeing his drawings, so he didn't say anything when Justin turned the sketch pad so he could see more clearly.

"Hey," Justin said, smiling, "that's nice."

He was mostly keeping himself occupied until soundcheck; it wasn't a drawing of anything, really, just shapes of different colors and textures, trying his hand at a new medium. He'd seen the sticks on a website and thought they looked interesting. He hadn't tried them with water yet.

"Thanks," JC smiled, "it's just an experiment."

"Yeah, but I like the colors you've got there. You could design clothes for Chris, maybe, or websites for Lance's projects. You've got an interesting eye."

JC looked at Justin with surprise.

"Hey, I'm not a total idiot. Our job is pretty visual, dude; I'd be a complete doofus if I hadn't learned anything over the years." Justin picked at the colors in the box.

"Clothes for Chris, websites for Lance. What could I do for Joe?" JC asked, amused, and turned back to his sketch pad.

"Something for Bri, of course. Hmm, you could design toys!" Justin sounded excited. "You'd be great at that, 'cause you're in touch with your inner child."

"You're thinking of Chris," JC grinned, "and possibly yourself." He wriggled and laughed when Justin poked him in the side.

"Seriously, dude! Toys by JC Chasez." He went quiet, and JC turned to find Justin lost in a haze, a slight smile on his face. "Man, I'd love to see the kind of stuff you'd come up with.  You'd design some seriously whacked toys, things like pink stuffed kittens that quizzed you on atomic theory and shit."

JC laughed. "Man, our fans are seriously deranged. When did pink become my personal color, and when did I become a kitten?"

"Since the hair, man," Justin grinned. "You are a pretty kitten. You're slinky and sweet, and your eyes scrunch up when you smile. You're very kitten-like."

JC blushed. "Right, Timberlake. And that 'Pinky' stuff is beyond embarrassing."

Justin cackled. "What, being my bitch would be so bad?"

"Just make sure your liner notes are clear next time, OK? No cryptic messages."

"Now you're thinking of Chris."

JC snorted. "Yeah, well."

"Ouch, give me a minute to think up a witty comeback."

JC held up his middle finger. "OK. Toys for Bri, websites for Lance, clothes for Chris. What can I do for you?"

 Justin leaned his head on JC's shoulder. He was silent for so long that JC turned to look at him. Then Justin said, "Be my Pinky for real."

JC blinked. "Hunh?"

Justin's arms slid around his waist. "You heard me. Be my Pinky." He kissed JC's neck. "Be my pretty kitten."

"Justin," JC said gently, "we don't have to do this. Just because we both tried with the other guys...I mean, you're not like a set of McDonald's toys I'm trying to collect."

"I know." Justin nuzzled under JC's hair. "I want to try, but if you don't, I'm cool with that, too. I'll still love you."

It sometimes amazed JC how much they all loved each other even after their attempts to love each other had failed. He turned a little in Justin's arms, and studied his face for a moment. Satisfied with what he saw, JC brushed Justin's lips softly with his. "Just so you know, your kitten bites."

Justin smiled against his mouth. "Meow, baby. Bring it on."

Justin's mad dancing skills had nothing on Justin's mad skills in the sack, JC discovered. Justin, blissed out and spread-eagle on his back on the bed beside JC, seemed to think the same.

"Oh my God," Justin mumbled, half asleep. "No one warned me that you're straight-up, kinky-ass monkey porn. Holy friggin' God."

"Is that good?" JC asked in the midst of a yawn. 

"I may never walk again.  I think I broke something.  Did I pass out?  What day is it?"

JC was too tired to give his usual full-body cackle, so he snorted, laughing into the mattress.  "I'll take that as a 'hell yeah, JC, that was good.'"

Fuckin' amazing," Justin murmured. He patted the mattress. "You're too far away. I'd crawl over there but my body seems to be broken."

JC stretched, hands over his head, and was pleased to note the satisfied look in Justin's eyes as he watched.  "What's your recovery time?" JC asked  innocently, rolling over on his side, closer to Justin.

"You're kidding me."  Justin raised one eyebrow.

"Does this feel like I'm kidding?" JC took Justin's hand and placed it on his cock, already growing heavy and full.

"Mmm," Justin purred, "My recovery time is right about now."

JC's eyes fluttered opened when Lance cracked the door.  "Uh," Lance said, eyes sweeping over the lump beside JC.  "Sorry dude, I thought you were alone."

"It's just J," JC said, grinning, patting the lump in the vicinity of a hip.

"Mmf." The lump grumbled and shifted, and the sheet slipped a bit to show a freckled shoulder.

"Hey, I know that shoulder," Lance said with a smile. "Congrats, C, you've got yourself a pretty hot boyfriend, but then again, so does J."

"Damn straight," Justin murmured, turning over and wrapping his arms around JC. "Go get your own hot boyfriend."

"Been there, done that, got my heart broken," Lance said, but a grin and a wink softened his words.  "We're leaving in 30, guys.  Try to get your sexy selves up and at 'em before we have to kick your asses, ok?"

"Not a prob," JC said, wriggling backward against Justin.

"Mmmm, I can truthfully say that I'm up," Justin said softly, pressing his hips forward against JC's body.

"Good Lord," Lance said, shaking his head, "I don't get paid enough to deal with you people."  He shook his head but smiled as he shut the door behind him.

"We're leaving in thirty minutes," JC murmured; he angled his hips so that Justin's cock lined up in a very advantageous spot.

"Yeah," Justin murmured.  He kissed the back of JC's neck, and fumbled for the strip of condoms that had gotten lost somewhere in the bed.  "Lube's on your side," Justin whispered as he closed his fingers around the wayward packets.

They'd heard clearing-out noises since Lance left the room; shouts, laughter and conversation in the hall, muffled knocks, bumps, and Melinda's shrill tones pitched above it all.  Thirty minutes after Lance had left, JC stuffed the last of his socks in his duffle as the knock sounded on the door.

"C'mon, before they pile in here and get us," JC said, nudging Justin with his foot.  Justin nodded, but they'd either moved too slowly or had thought about it too late because a preparatory shout of "Hope you're decent!" was all the warning they had before Chris, Lance and Joey piled into the room. They looked mischievous, which was a bad sign.

"Have spare keycard, will travel," Chris said, waving the rectangle of plastic under JC's nose.  "And here's a little something from all of us," he said with an evil grin.  JC and Justin barely had time to cover their heads and squeal before the other three pelted them with multi-colored condoms and travel-sized tubes of lube.

"Fuckers!" JC shrieked, "you'll put someone's eye out!"  He wrapped an arm around Chris' waist and they fell to the floor, where Justin hadd already tumbled under Joey and Lance.  They were a pile of flailing arms and thrashing legs until Chris decided to play dirty and went for their ribs.  Justin, next to JC, alternated between near-hysterical laughter and yelps of indignation until he could take no more and screamed Uncle over and over.

"So," Joey said, all of them still in a pile, poking each other periodically and twitching, stifling hitched laughter between prods.  "You and Sexy J, hunh?" he said, smiling at JC and twisting Justin's nose.  Justin squawked.

"Yep, me and Sexy J," JC smiled, curling his body defensively when Chris' fingers skittered lightly across his ribs.

"We don't have to tell you to be good to each other or we'll beat you senseless, right?" Lance asked.

"Yeah," JC feigned irritation, "I think I've heard that speech a couple of times, thanks."

"You know," Chris spoke slowly, "There's a reason none of the rest of us worked out."  He glanced at Joey, who looked at Lance, who looked at the floor.  JC and Justin traded a glance and JC poked Chris.  "There's something between you and Justin that the rest of us just can't compete with," Chris said.

"What?  We didn't want anyone to compete," Justin said, angling up on one elbow.  We're all friends, man."

"This isn't about friendship," Joey said.  "It's about the two of you and this little place you're at."

"It was weird," Chris said; his fingers slid against JC's scalp, and he wound and unwound a long curl around his finger.  "For the first time I understood exactly what Bobbie and Brit had been up against."  He touched the tip of his finger against JC's forehead and then Justin's.  "Something in here."

Justin's breath was hot on his neck and JC turned toward him; he closed his eyes when Justin pressed a gentle kiss against his skin.  "You," Justin whispered soft and low in his ear.

JC smiled and nodded. "You."