"Jesus, Timberlake, feel him up in private, please!"

Justin laughed and buried his face in your neck, and said "Sorry," but one long finger still softly, maddeningly stroking your balls proved that he wasn't.

You, meanwhile, tried hard not to arch your back and thrust into Justin's grasp, especially when he gave your cock a gentle squeeze. You wrapped your hand around his wrist and tugged. "C'mon--" you said, breathless. You were aware that you didn't sound particularly uncomfortable with the situation.

"J, molest your boy somewhere I'm not, okay?" Lance said, sounding bored, his eyes never leaving the TV screen. He dug into the bowl of popcorn at his side.

Justin nibbled at your neck and pressed his marginally bigger body against yours to pin you in place. He raised his head to grin at Chris, and he looked wild and gleefully evil. He squeezed you again, and looked down at you, leaned down to bite your ear. He whispered, "I fuckin' love your cock," his breath hot and moist against your skin. After another squeeze he cuffed his fingers around you, and as well as he could within the confines of your jeans, began to slowly, steadily stroke you. Because you were feeling wanton and slutty and extremely turned on, you let him. You couldn't help the soft moan that emerged from your throat.

"Dude!" Chris squeaked, his huge eyes round and slightly bugged. "You're not giving him a handjob in front of us." Lance turned around, and his eyes widened a bit. "I refuse to believe it," Chris continued. "Lance, do you see this?"

"Yeah." Lance's eyes were everywhere at once; your face, Justin's hand, your spread legs. "One of my cousins got it on with her boyfriend in front of a girl she knew," he said after a moment.

Chris looked at him as though he'd grown horns. "Whathefuck?"

"It's true," Lance nodded, still watching. "The girl hadn't seen anyone do it, not pictures, even, and she wanted to see." You met Lance's glance, and licked your lips before you half-closed your eyes to better concentrate on Justin's hand. You lifted your hips a little then, arms pressed hard against the floor for leverage.

"Dude, no offense, but your cousin's a freak," Chris said.

"She's a good person," Lance shrugged. His eyes never left the action in your crotch.

"You're obviously not freaked out by this," Chris said. He flinched when Justin popped the top button on your jeans. "How can this not freak you out?"

"Chris," Lance replied, "if you don't know by now that there are interesting twists and turns in my personality, then I'm hurt."

"More like kinks, I'd say," Chris muttered. He started to fidget.

Stretching out a hand, Lance gave your knee a little pat. You grinned at him. "Hey, Bass, baby," you said, and your voice was just a little low and husky.

Lance cocked an eyebrow and gave you an amused look. "You offerin', sugar?" he drawled, and the look in his eyes was just a shade darker than playful.

"I'm offerin' you sugar, sugar," you drawled right back. It was true; you wouldn't mind gettin' a little of that, because Lance was a pretty hunk o' boy. You sighed when Justin popped another button of your fly. "Wanna see how sweet I am?" you asked. You let your knee drop, let your legs spread wider.

"I already know how sweet you are." Lance laughed, and touched your knee again. His hand lingered this time, and he stroked you gently with his thumb. "I want to see how bad you are."

"Oh god, group sex and cheesy word play," Chris said, sounding a little hysterical and rolling his eyes.

"Chris, relax; it's just sex," Lance purred, patting Chris' knee now.

Chris flinched. He moved his leg and looked toward the couch. "Joey. Joey! Why the hell aren't you saying anything? Do you see this?"

Joey's head appeared above the arm of the couch, and he grinned sleepily. "I caught the midnight show, the one with audience participation."

Lance glanced up at Joey, his look keenly curious. "Yeah? How was it?"

"Tell me you're not serious," Chris said.

"Definitely worth the four hours of sleep I lost," Joey answered Lance and smiled at you before his eyes drifted shut.

Chris was cow-eyed. "Tell me you're not fuckin' serious," he repeated.

"Mmmm," Joey finished. His lowered his head to the cushion of his crossed arms.

"Time to quit playing around," Justin murmured, and opened the last two buttons of your jeans.

You sneaked a peek at Chris, watched his face as Justin cupped you gently and freed your cock from your pants. Lance licked his lips and rubbed his wrist over the front of his khakis. "Here," you said, and stretched out your hand. You drew your finger slowly up the solid length of Lance's thigh, said, "let me rub that for you," and brushed the backs of your fingers against Lance's cock. He was hard.

Chris looked like he was going to vomit. "Fuck," he said, in a slightly strangled voice. "Fuck." He scrambled to his feet. Lance reached out, but Chris avoided him and hurried out of the room with his head down, his face red.

"Jesus," Justin swore, and you tried to stuff your cock back in your jeans while Justin and Lance followed Chris out into the hall. By the time you caught up with them, Chris was leaning against the wall, bent over, his hands on his knees. Justin was crouching in front of him, murmuring softly, and Lance was rubbing his shoulder. You knelt down beside him.

"I respect your right to freak out," you said in a quiet voice, "but, dude, not here. C'mon." Johnny was on your floor, along with all the other high level management types that made the tour happen. Too many people were roaming the halls, looking at all of you, probably wondering what the hell kind of crisis had four multimillionaire singer/dancers bitching at each other.

"Just tell me what the hell that was, okay?" Chris sounded close to hyperventilating. "What the fuck was that?"

You grasped Chris' bicep and tried not to grip with bruising force. "You're not having a meltdown in this hall," you whispered. "Do you hear me, Chris? Get your ass back in the room."

For just a moment, you thought he was going to fight you. When he turned his eyes to yours, they were dark, darker than usual, and strangely deep. "I," he started, then his face went soft and he looked down. You loosened your grip when he stood. You exchanged glances with Justin and Lance, and you looked up and down the hall, quickly, before you opened the door.

Back in the room, you shut and locked the door behind you. Joey was sitting up, and looked expectantly at you all when you came in. "Chris?" he said, but you gave him a look and shook your head. Justin and Lance sat on the couch beside Joey. None of them spoke.

"Hey," you said softly, and put your hand on Chris' shoulder. "Come on, let's talk."

Chris leaned against the wall and looked down. "You're together," he said. "You guys should respect that. It's the two of you and that's the way it should be." He looked up at you briefly and scowled. "You're together," he stressed. "That should mean something." You suspected that this was more about Chris being lonely than about you and Justin.

"Chris," you said, and stopped. You weren't sure you could explain it. "Jesus," you sighed, and pulled him to you in a hug. "Nothing's going to change what J and I have," you said softly. "But we love you guys too, and I don't see anything wrong with that. It's us five, and I love all of you more than anything." Chris looked away, but nodded. "This is about being with people we love, who love us. J and I are strong together, man; I'd never be able to share him if I doubted what he feels for me." You pulled back a little to look into Chris' eyes. You turned his face to yours and stroked his jaw gently. "You okay?" Chris nodded, and you tipped his face up to yours. "May I kiss you?" you asked, but it was purely rhetorical because you pressed your lips to his before he could answer.

It was good. You'd always thought that Chris would be good because of the passion he brings to everything he does. His hands were tentative against your skin, so you pulled back and whispered, "You can touch me, it's okay," and kissed him again.

Another pair of hands slipped between your body and Chris', and you opened your eyes to find that Justin had spooned Chris from behind. He nibbled Chris' neck and Chris closed his eyes. You leaned forward to rub your cheek against the top of Justin's fuzzy scalp. When Justin looked up you kissed him; you told him you loved him and left Chris in his care.

Joey and Lance were sitting quietly on the couch. Joey looked warm and sated, Lance looked alive and electric.

All your questions about Joey had been answered last night, and you hadn't been disappointed. It had been odd at first to find yourself under someone other than Justin, and later, over someone other than Justin, but it had been good, very good, and you didn't regret a thing. You'd told Chris the truth, you loved them all and, with things slowly slipping out of your control, it was a way to reaffirm your bond with the men who formed your life.

Lance looked almost defiant when you approached him. Joey grinned, and you hit him on the head. You said, "Stop with the grinning, man. You're going to give him the wrong idea," but Joey just laughed at you. He glanced behind you and his eyebrows rose, but you didn't turn to see what Justin and Chris were up to. You guys weren't going anywhere for two days; there'd be plenty of chances to see what they were like together. Besides, Chris probably needed a moment to get his head together.

Lance, though.

He licked his lips and looked up at you, and you were wrong. He wasn't defiant, he was hungry. You were ready for him.

You woke up a few hours later, entwined in the dark with Justin's arms around you and someone's head nestled between your shoulder blades. It wasn't quite cool enough in the room to counteract the too-hot press of flesh around you, so you slipped out of bed as gracefully as you could and stumbled on your way to the air conditioner.

"Shit," someone half-laughed, half-whispered from the vicinity of the couch.

"Chris?" You tried to remember the obstacles between you and him as you made your way across the darkened room. Your guess was right, it was Chris, and he reached out a hand to steady you when your knees unexpectedly bumped his. His hand was cool against your skin and he petted you a moment.

"Steady there."

"Hey." You dropped to the couch, realizing that without two other bodies wrapped around yours, the room wasn't as warm as you'd thought. You shivered in the chill and asked Chris, "Why are you out of bed? Are you okay?" You hoped he wasn't freaking out about what happened because on a scale of one to ten, it had been pretty damn phenomenal.

"You just," Chris said, and hesitated. "You get used to not having what you want," he said softly. "And then, you know. You think--"

It was easier for him to admit it in the dark, when he couldn't see your face. It was a practice you'd all gotten into in the early days when you were bumping and edging against each other, becoming a group. The dark was made for saying things that hurt, things that made your heart ache. And you knew what he was trying to say, you'd been in his shoes once. But you'd been lucky, because the one you'd wanted had wanted you, too.

"It's never gonna happen again, is it?" Chris' hand was warm on your knee, and now that your eyes had adjusted to the dark, you could see the shadowy movement of his thumb stroking your skin. "Was this it?"

"Who knows? I don't." You covered his hand with yours, interlaced your fingers together and squeezed gently. "It could happen; lightning's been known to strike the same place twice." You both turned toward the bed when someone laughed, Justin or Joey, you weren't sure which, but there was no mistaking Lance.

"I don't think it will. I think this is it." He didn't quite sound sad, but he didn't sound happy, either. Justin called you from the bed before you could answer.

"Jace? Get Chris and get your asses back in bed."

"Come on." You tugged on his hand and got his attention. "Let's go back to bed." You had to pull him up, but once he was on his feet he followed you willingly. Joey and Lance were a laughing tangle of pillows and linen, and Justin was sitting up, a dusky smudge against the headboard.

A narrow band of silvery light slipped through a gap in the closed curtains. It illuminated the curve of Justin's throat and jaw, and his smile when you drew nearer. He flipped the sheets back, and you pushed Chris ahead of you.

The bedclothes shifted. The soft sound of cotton was comforting and warm.