"Temporary Insanity"

Temporary Insanity

Rating: NC-17 for graphic male-male sex

Pairing: JC Chasez/Aaron Carter, Lance Bass/Justin Timberlake

Disclaimer: The young men who comprise *NSYNC are their own people. The author has not met anyone here described, nor does the author mean to suggest that these people act this way in real life. This writing is a work of fiction. I make no money from this venture.

Notice: Set in CFTC, 2006. Or, set in CFTC, 2005, only everyone’s a year older.

At 2005’s CFTC in Chicago, Lance coached the Knights. He spent most of the game sitting/standing at the end of the Knights’ row of chairs, by the table of announcers and judges. JC and Aaron spent most of the game there, too. Lance talked to Aaron a lot, Lance talked to JC, Aaron talked to JC… I spent more time watching them than the game. Aaron made JC laugh. When they announced the players, Aaron was the first one out, and he flipped onto the court. Nice.

Pictures of CFTC 2005 and Aaron

banner by Diamond

JC loved Challenge for the Children. It brought the five of them together again. It brought their friends together again. It brought their fans together again. It raised good money for good charities. For one weekend, the five of them could enjoy each other’s company, enjoy hanging out, enjoy some competition and some parties and some good times.

The first day or two were a blur. Then he found himself about to step onto the court for the game, and he realized that the weekend was already half over.

The lights dimmed. The fans screamed. JC felt pre-performance tension building from habit as the first celebrity headed out.

Aaron Carter exploded onto the court in a series of high flips. Everyone screamed. Taken aback, JC stared. “Whoa. Dude. Is that safe?”

“You want to try it?” Lance asked, beside him.

“Oh, no,” JC said, and looked at Lance. “You?”

Lance shook his head. “I’ll stick with walking.”

Apparently during the previous day, Aaron and Lance had hung out more than JC had realized, because Aaron spent most of the game talking to Lance. JC spent most of the game talking to Lance, too, and whenever Lance was busy with his coaching duties, JC talked to Aaron.

JC hadn’t really seen much of Aaron recently. He was taller, long and lanky. Still playful, still spoiled, but confident and more mature. He conversed with JC like an equal, not like somebody’s little brother. He must have done a lot of growing up when JC hadn’t been looking.

“How old are you?” JC asked.

“Eighteen,” Aaron said.

Eighteen? “You’re legal?” JC asked.

Aaron grinned. “That depends on what you want to do to me.”

JC was so shocked, he laughed.

The game was great. It was a close call for a while, but they won. Lance accepted his trophy with a smile while they all milled around, congratulating each other.

Justin came over, giving him a sweaty hug. “Congratulations, Coach Bass.”

“Thanks.” Lance watched Justin wipe sweat from his beard. “You played great.”

“Thanks.” Justin grinned. “You stood on the sidelines great,” he said, and squeezed Lance’s arm, and walked off.

Lance watched him go. “Yeah, well… It’s what I do best,” he said to Justin’s back, as Justin congratulated someone else.

The celebration party was just gearing up when JC arrived. Justin hadn’t shown up yet. JC said hello to Chris, and spent a few minutes with Joey, then went to look for Lance.

He found Lance sitting in a lushly padded booth with various people, Aaron Carter at his side. The other people seemed to be conversing among themselves as Lance and Aaron held an animated discussion on something JC couldn’t hear. Aaron had one leg up, his knee to his chest, one arm wrapped loosely around his shin as his other hand gestured. Aaron had so much energy. He’d moved from one end of the court to the other faster than anyone else out there.

As JC got closer, Lance spotted him. “Hey! Have a seat.”

JC slid in beside someone he didn’t know, across from Aaron and Lance. “Great game today.”

“You, too,” Lance said. “You want a drink?”

“Sure.” JC accepted the glass Lance poured him from one of the bottles on the table. As Lance’s attention was diverted by someone else, JC watched Aaron take a drink. He didn’t want to be the party police, but, “What is that?”

“Coke,” Aaron said. “Want some?”

JC looked at it. Took the glass. Tasted it. “That’s Crown and Coke.”

“Really?” Aaron asked with a wicked smile, taking it back from him. “That’s funny, I just ordered a soda.”

That smile. Aaron evoked Nick in large ways and small ways. The way he laughed. The ever-shifting variety of expressions crossing his face. The lilt in his voice when he asked a question. He had a lot of Nick in him. And JC knew how much Nick loved him.

A quick buzz ran through the crowd. JC knew what that meant. Smiling, he took another drink and waited.

A few minutes later, Justin came by their table. “Hey, big winners,” he said, flashing a smile.

“Hey,” JC said. “You want to sit down?” he offered.

“No, I’m not staying. I just dropped in to say hi.” He looked around the table. “Hi.”

“Where are you going?” Lance asked.

“There’s a dance club a few blocks over. I’m heading over there. You should drop by later.”

“Sure,” JC said. “Have fun.”

“Bye.” Justin flashed another smile and walked off.

“Dance club,” Aaron said, taking another drink. He licked his lips, running his hand back over his hair. “You want to go?” he asked Lance.

“Maybe later,” Lance said, reaching for the bottle.

Aaron smacked Lance’s hand away. “Let’s go. It’ll be fun.”

Lance picked up a different bottle. “Maybe later.”

Aaron gave Lance a disgusted look.

JC’s eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out their dynamic. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure that he liked it.

Aaron’s gaze shifted across the table to JC. “You want to go?”

He wouldn’t have minded going. “Maybe later,” he said, taking a drink and looking around the club. He wanted to hang out with Lance, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about Aaron at the moment.

Lance set down his glass. “We’ll go in another hour,” he told Aaron. “Okay? Just give me an hour.”

“Okay,” Aaron said with a relaxed, satisfied shrug, perfectly content now. He lowered one leg, drawing up his other knee, tipping his head against the back of the booth. He had such a long neck, long arms, long legs, long torso, that it seemed strange that he wasn’t quite JC’s height. Long fingers tapped against the tabletop. His head lolled to one side; he studied Lance.

Lance glanced at Aaron, apparently unperturbed. “What?”

“Just thinking.” Aaron watched Lance some more, fingers tapping.

Lance put up one hand and casually pushed Aaron away, turning his face to look straight ahead again.

Aaron’s gaze settled on JC. “You’re working on another album?”

“Yeah. I’ve been recording a few things.” Lance kept flowing into conversation with the other people at the table, but JC couldn’t get into it. Something about Aaron distracted him too much. He couldn’t figure out what it was, either. Aaron’s personality? Aaron’s mysterious and entirely unexpected sudden friendship with Lance? The fact that he kept flashing back to Nick?

“How old were you when you recorded your second album?” Lance asked Aaron. “Three?”

Aaron laughed, rubbing his shin. “Don’t be jealous.”

Lance raised his eyebrows. “You think I’m jealous?”

“When you’re onstage, who’s everybody looking at?” Aaron asked.

Lance’s lips quirked into a brief grin. “Justin.”

“Hey, at least one in five is looking at you,” JC said. “I rock my one-fifth of the crowd.”

“That’s my point,” Aaron said. “At best, you only get one in five. When I’m onstage, every single person out there has both eyes right on me.”

Lance shuddered. “If that’s what you want, more power to you. One in five is right where I want to be.”

JC laughed. “The trouble with being the only one up there is, if you forget the words or forget the steps or find a way to pull off a major fuck-up, it’s all on you.”

“How do you handle it?” Aaron asked JC.

JC met his eyes. “How do you?”

Aaron grinned, relaxing into a perfect, knowing smirk of self-confidence. “I don’t fuck up.”

Lance rolled his eyes.

Laughing, breaking form, Aaron said, “No, I screw up all of the time. If I can cover, I keep going. If it’s too obvious, I laugh it off. The fans love it if you fuck up once in a while. It makes you more real.”

JC couldn’t stand messing up. It happened, it was bound to happen and he had to accept that, but a part of him still hated it. He worked too hard, rehearsing every note, every step, every last word and movement; he wanted everything to go off without a hitch. He wanted to give the crowd a good show, not memories of him screwing up.

“Hold on,” Aaron said, with a quick frown. “Something’s vibrating in my pants.” Fishing into his pockets, he pulled out a phone. “Hold on for a second,” he said, and pushed a few buttons.

“We’ll pause in our fascinating conversation until you can get back to us,” Lance said.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Aaron said. Apparently he was sending a text message. “Get me another Coke while you’re at it.”

Lance didn’t bother to reply to that. JC watched Aaron. Something about the concentration in his eyes made JC think of Nick. Or was it the way he held his mouth?

“You could just call whoever that is,” Lance said.

“It’s not that important,” Aaron said, tucking his phone away again. He shrugged. “Nick just wanted to know who won the game.”

Since the subject had arisen… “How’s he doing?” JC asked, and took a casual sip.

“He’s great,” Aaron said. “They’re launching their big tour right now, so he has a lot going on.”

Some of the other people in the booth were trying to get up, so JC slid out of their way, rising. Just as he stood, Chris walked past, taking his elbow and guiding him off, explaining that he was needed elsewhere.

Lance hung out for a while longer, talking to whoever came to the table. Joey dropped by with a bottle of champagne to congratulate him on the win. After Joey had gone again, Aaron said, “It’s been an hour and a half.”

“Okay,” Lance said, accepting.

“Let’s go wherever Justin went,” Aaron said.

“We don’t know where Justin went,” Lance pointed out.

“Whoever drove him there knows,” Aaron said. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t feel like dancing,” Lance said. “This is a good party.”

“This is a boring as hell party, and I want to dance,” Aaron said. “Let’s go. We can take JC.”

“He’s not going to dance with you,” Lance said.

Aaron’s gaze was direct. “Maybe not. But I can make him want to.”

JC was talking to someone else when Aaron strolled up. “We’re hitting that spot Justin went to,” Aaron said. “Lance is finding out where it is. You want to come?”

He wouldn’t mind dancing for a while. He’d like to hang out with Lance and Justin. “Yeah, okay.” He handed off his drink, wiping his hands on his pants, and followed Aaron through the club.

JC sat behind Lance and Aaron on the drive. He was distracted by his own thoughts, but he kept hearing Aaron’s voice and Lance’s laughter. The sound of Lance laughing made JC smile.

He still didn’t understand how Lance and Aaron had managed to become such good friends so quickly, with no obvious cause. But Lance clearly enjoyed having Aaron around, and anyone who made Lance happy made JC happy.

Lance preceded JC into the club, making his way up to the VIP section. It wasn’t hard to spot Justin on the floor, and Lance paused, watching.

He loved the way Justin moved. It never failed to amaze him. It was like Justin’s joints weren’t hinged the way other people’s were. The sheer coordination and brainpower and muscle control it took. And Justin’s hips…

The girl Justin was dancing with didn’t look nearly as orgasmic as Lance thought she should have.

JC was moving on; Aaron followed, tugging Lance along, breaking the spell that Justin’s movement had cast. They went to the bar, and when Aaron ordered Coke, Lance ordered rum and a bottle of wine. As they found a table, Lance automatically scanned the dancers, locating Justin again.

“Let’s get out there,” Aaron said. Aaron was always ready for action.

“We just got here,” Lance said. He wondered how long it would take Justin to notice that they were in the club. It wouldn’t happen until Justin left the dance floor, or until they stepped onto it. He didn’t want Justin to leave the dance floor; Lance happily could have spent hours watching Justin dance.

Justin was with a different girl now, behind her, his hands sliding up her thighs. Lance wondered…

A sharp nudge. “Hi,” Aaron said. “Lance?”

Disoriented, Lance quickly broke free from his reverie and looked around the table. When had the song changed? “What?”

“What’s so interesting out there?” JC asked.

“I don’t know what he’s looking at, but I like that girl with the red pants,” Aaron said.

JC scanned the dancers and found her. “She knows what she’s doing,” he admitted. When he reached for his drink, he studied the table, then looked at Aaron. “When we sat down, there was a glass of Coke here and a glass of rum there.”

“Right,” Aaron said. “I remember.”

“Now I see two glasses of Coke.”

“Hunh.” Aaron grinned. “Weird.”

JC looked like he couldn’t decide whether to frown or smile. “Where’s the rum?”

“I don’t know,” Aaron said, “but this Coke tastes great.”

“How did you do that?” JC asked. Now he looked mystified. “I didn’t see a thing.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aaron said with a puzzled smile.

“Hey!” Justin was with them suddenly, pushing JC aside and sitting down. He was grinning, sweating, flushed. “You made it.”

“You weren’t doing a bad job out there,” JC said.

“The DJ’s great,” Justin said. “Come on out and join the party.” Justin looked directly at Lance, his eyes inviting, his smile expectant.

“I’m going,” Aaron said. He pushed their glasses aside, climbing right over Lance and stepping down, then turning back to the table. “You coming?” he asked JC.

Justin’s attention was on Aaron and JC now. Lance studied the side of Justin’s face. His light beard looked weirdly soft.

“I’ll be right there,” JC said.

“Hurry up,” Justin said. He got up and walked off.

Lance took a long drink. When he set down his glass, JC was looking at him. “What?”

“What’s going on between you and Aaron?” JC asked.

He hadn’t expected that question. “In what way?”

“We’ve known him since he was…”

“An embryo?” Lance guessed.

JC laughed. “He wasn’t that young. But, yeah. We’ve known him since we all got together, we were his friends and his big brothers and his baby-sitters. But we haven’t really spent much time with him in a while, and now… You’re friends?”

“I like him,” Lance said. “He knows what he wants, and he gets it. He takes action.”

“He has a lot of energy,” JC admitted.

“I could learn a few things from him,” Lance said.

JC looked surprised. “Are you kidding? You go after what you want.”

“Not always.” Lance didn’t want to discuss that any further. “Why don’t you go ahead and dance? Justin’s waiting for you.”

JC gave him a close look, then said, “Okay,” and stood. “Come on, you should be out there with us.”

“In a minute,” Lance said.

“If I don’t see you, I’ll come back for you,” JC said, and walked away.

Lance refilled his glass and turned his gaze to the dance floor.

Justin was dancing with the girl with red pants, laughing and saying something to Aaron. The girl had her hands on his waist. Justin’s body probably felt hard, tight, firm with defined muscle, warm against her palms, Justin’s shirt damp with sweat.

At first, JC’s attention was on the music, his own body’s movements, his partner. Then his attention was on Justin; he studied Justin’s moves with a professional eye, cataloguing them. Then he wondered if Lance had any intention of joining them. He turned, intending to ask-

-Aaron. JC blinked, sure that he was mistaking someone else for - - no, that was Aaron.

That was how Aaron danced?

Logically, it made sense. Aaron had been working choreography for, well, pretty much his entire life. Aaron spent a lot of time around professional dancers. He had the flexibility and coordination to back-flip at will. He probably should dance like that. JC just hadn’t been prepared for the sight of it.

Shifting his partner, JC moved to get a more direct line of sight. He watched the twist of Aaron’s hips, the bend of Aaron’s knees, the flex and roll and drop and rock of Aaron’s body. Aaron’s feet weren’t afraid of complex steps, and Aaron’s body was right inside the music’s rhythm.

“He’s not bad.”

JC looked over his shoulder, relaxing his hold on his partner; Justin watched Aaron with a half-smile, eyes picking up every minute detail. “He’s pretty good,” JC said. He stopped dancing, watching Justin as Justin watched Aaron, wanting more of Justin’s opinion.

“He’s holding back,” Justin said slowly, his gaze wandering Aaron’s body. “She’s not good enough for him.” Looking away, Justin reached out, gesturing the girl in red pants closer. “Hey,” Justin said, drawing her in and then spinning her towards Aaron. “Catch.”

A crowd was gathering around them; Lance’s view was becoming obscured. Getting up from the table, he made his way onto the dance floor, coming in opposite JC and Justin. Aaron was dancing with Red Pants like they were alone in the club, like they were either long-time dance partners or long-time lovers. Obviously, being the center of attention was a very comfortable place for Aaron.

Aaron didn’t just dance; he emoted. His body, his hands, his expression, they told a story of how much he wanted his partner, how obsessed he was with her, how powerful the chemistry between them was. Whenever they were face-to-face, he gazed deeply into her eyes like he wanted to live there. It seemed to be working; subtle changes told Lance that she was no longer dancing for their audience but for Aaron, responding to his cues, and they moved even more intimately together.

Lance looked past Aaron to Justin. Justin was dancing in place, casually, watching Aaron, smiling, nodding, enjoying himself. JC was dancing in place, too, at Justin’s side, smaller echoes of Justin’s moves, eyes on Aaron. The seductive sway and snap of Justin’s hips brought Lance around the dancing couple to stand on Justin’s other side.

“He should take it to the floor,” Justin said, talking to Lance like he’d been there the whole time. “He’s not going to, he isn’t letting it get as dirty as he should.”

“Why not?” Lance asked. Justin was right; the dance wasn’t as explicit as it could have been.

Justin shook his head, still dancing, his body automatically moving with the music. “I don’t know.”

The mix segued from one song to another, and as the beat shifted, Aaron spun Red Pants, twisting neatly away. She landed against Lance’s chest; his arms around her automatically, catching her.

Laughing, happy, Justin told her what a great job she’d done, then danced over to Aaron.

She stared into Lance’s eyes, looking very aroused and a little stunned.

“Hi,” he said, adjusting his grip. “Do you want a drink?”

She licked sweat from her upper lip, looked over her shoulder at Aaron and Justin, then nodded. “I could use a stiff one.”

He knew what she meant.

JC wanted to rewind time and watch it all over again. Aaron had been as direct as always, but still powerfully seductive. The way he’d slid his hands over her body. The way she’d offered herself to him. The way he’d gazed into her eyes, hypnotizing her.

Nick had done that to JC, once. JC had ended up bent over the hood of his own car, shouting Nick’s name when he came.

Things hadn’t worked out, but the sex had been incredible. JC still considered Nick one of the most powerfully sexual, powerfully seductive men he’d ever known.

He’d never realized that Aaron could be the same way.

Well, not the same way. It wasn’t like he was going to end up in bed with Aaron. He wasn’t even attracted to Aaron.

Maybe he was attracted to Aaron, a little. But just because Aaron reminded him of Nick. Not because he was interested in Aaron as a person.

Although anyone who made Lance laugh like that and Justin smile like that had to be pretty cool.

JC rubbed the back of his neck, standing at the bar with Justin and Aaron. They were talking about different choreographers they’d worked with and different dancers they knew.

Apparently, they both liked to have sex with their dancers. The female ones, anyway. JC wondered how long Aaron had been sexually active. Only someone used to exercising control over someone else’s body could have danced like that. It could just be that Aaron was used to dancing with a partner, but JC suspected otherwise. Aaron had enough sexual experience to be a confident lover.

JC studied Aaron, trying to fit that into his overall mental picture. He was so busy watching the tilt of Aaron’s head, the way it showed off Aaron’s neck, the dark sparkle of Aaron’s eyes, the quick smiles flashing brightly across Aaron’s face, the gestures of Aaron’s hands, that he didn’t hear a word Aaron said. Justin’s sudden, happy laughter startled him.

“That’s great!” Justin said, still laughing. “Oh, god, that’s classic. Wait, you have to tell Lance, he has to hear this. Where’d he go?” Justin looked around, then started off, taking Aaron with him.

After a few steps, Aaron turned, extending a hand to JC, making an encouraging gesture. “Come on. We can’t leave you behind.”

JC looked at his smile, at his offered hand.

Aaron wiggled his fingers. “JC.”

There was nothing wrong with making new friends. JC had a lot of friends. And a lot of them were younger than he was. Justin was younger than he was, and Justin was one of the best, closest friends he’d ever had.

He’d known Aaron for years. Maybe it was time to promote Aaron from kid to equal. Aaron was older now, eighteen, an adult. Old enough to be in college. Old enough for Lance to hang out with. Old enough for him to hang out with.

Aaron rolled his eyes, exasperated, and came back to him. “Would you come on before Justin sends back a search party?” he asked, wrapping his fingers around JC’s wrist and towing JC along.

“Sorry,” JC said, letting himself be pulled away from the bar.

Justin’s smile was genuinely happy, and Justin was laughing, and if Lance could have bottled the glow of Justin’s inner light, he could’ve ruled the world.

Justin was telling him about Aaron and the girl with green hair. Lance had heard the story the night before, so he nodded in the appropriate places and let his mind wander into the depths of Justin’s blue eyes. So blue, so very blue. Different shades of blue, a whole variety of blues, mingling into a captivating richness that made one glance enough to steal a heart for a lifetime.

Justin had stolen Lance’s heart long ago.

Red Pants had slipped off when Justin had shown up. Now Aaron and JC joined them, sitting on the other side of the table. Aaron said something, and Justin replied with a quick laugh, and the conversation rolled on from there.

Justin’s hand rested on the tabletop. His fingers drummed absently from time to time, in rhythm with the music. When he laughed, they curled in towards his palm.

Aaron seemed perfectly capable of sitting still, as long as he wasn’t sitting normally. Whenever he sat in the traditionally appropriate way, back straight and both feet on the floor, he went through a series of fidgets, tapping his fingers, scratching his cheek, tapping his toes, bouncing a knee up and down. He even seemed more mentally distracted, like being uncomfortable shortened his attention span. But if he tucked a foot up under himself, or drew a knee up to his chest, he relaxed, and he paid much closer attention, and he conversed well.

This was a young man who, as a child, had been forced to sit properly one too many times, and now he couldn’t take it.

His eyes were alert, interested, when he talked. When he listened, his eyes were slightly less bright, but JC could see the wheels turning as he processed what he heard.

He was quick to laugh, and even quicker to make other people laugh. He wanted other people to enjoy his company. He wanted to entertain. And it worked.

He had a lot of energy. His mind switched gears fast. He’d grown up knowing the three of them, and he wasn’t impressed by their stardom.

He did everything to its fullest. When he talked, he put heart and energy into it. When he listened, he committed to the listening process. JC could see that what Lance had said was true: if Aaron wanted something, Aaron would go after it until he had it.

JC wondered what Aaron wanted now.

When the SUV arrived to take them to the hotel as the club closed, Lance found himself in the back with Justin; JC and Aaron sat front of them. Even as they pulled into traffic, Lance wasn’t sure how Aaron had orchestrated that.

Justin took over all of the available space, stretching out his legs, spreading his arms along the back of the seat. “Good weekend?” he asked Lance, looking directly into Lance’s eyes.

“Great weekend,” Lance said.

Justin nodded, looking ahead again.

Lance discreetly studied the line of Justin’s jaw.

“You should have danced with us tonight,” Justin said. He shot Lance a brief smile. “I’ll have you out there tearing up the floor tomorrow night.”

“I couldn’t take the competition tonight,” Lance said. “I wasn’t ready to get into a dance-off with AC the Wonder Boy.”

Aaron reached one hand behind his head, flipped Lance off, and lowered his arm again.

Justin laughed.

Lance wished that the arm behind his shoulders would close in, but it never brushed against him. The inches denying him physical contact stubbornly remained.

It turned out that Justin and Lance were on the floor above JC and Aaron. JC and Aaron got off the elevator together, about to turn in different directions.

“When are you leaving?” Aaron asked.

“Monday,” JC said. “We’re all staying over Sunday night, just to get in another twenty-four hours.” His gaze flickered over Aaron’s face. “What about you?”

“Monday,” Aaron said. “Lance said he was staying, and we talked about hanging out and everything, so I pushed it back another day.”

Aaron and Lance had become awfully close, pretty quickly. JC wondered what that meant. “So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Aaron said. “I had a good time tonight.”

“So did I.” He wondered if Lance might be attracted to Aaron. It was possible. It didn’t seem likely, but at the same time, it made more sense than any other explanation for how close they seemed, at least on Lance’s side. Sexual attraction tended to override a lot of other factors. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Aaron said.

JC walked back to his room. Lance and Aaron, a couple? That was the alcohol talking. Aaron was straight, and-

Or was he? How would JC know? He didn’t announce his own sexuality to everyone he met. In front of most people, he talked about dating women, about sex with women. Lance did the same thing. Aaron might very well be gay; what reason would he have for confiding in JC about it?

Lance and Aaron.

They hadn’t seemed interested in each other. Had he missed an undercurrent of sexual attraction? Had he missed the signs of mutual desire?

Maybe he and Justin had been in the way.

But Lance and Aaron had made it a point to bring him along, to include him.

Maybe he was their cover, to make it look like three friends hanging out instead of a two-person date.

He could see why Aaron would want Lance; it was Lance, after all. And he could see why Lance might be attracted to Aaron. All of that youth and energy and laughter wrapped around all of that life experience and industry experience. Aaron was jaded and innocent at the same time. To be so young, and to have lived through so much; to have been thrust into the limelight alone, and to have survived. It was intriguing. Appealing. And the way he moved, the way he danced, the way he’d seduced that young woman in front of all of them, his hips twisting provocatively as his gaze convinced her to give herself to him, his body and his eyes talking her into his bed without words.

In his room, JC looked at his own bed.

The next morning, a ringing sound wakened Lance from slumber. Wincing, he cracked his eyes open, reaching out for the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Aaron. I’m coming over with breakfast, so get your ass out of bed.”

“Aaron.” Lance rubbed his forehead. “Call me again in three hours.”

“You have fifteen minutes,” Aaron said, and hung up.

Ugh. Lance dropped the phone, rolling over.

He needed to take a piss.

Aaron had said fifteen minutes. If Lance didn’t get up, Aaron would show up anyway.

Groaning, Lance got out of bed.

Showered, he was halfway into his clothes when he heard a knock at the door. “Room service,” Aaron announced.

Zipping up, Lance opened the door. “What is this?” he asked, as Aaron wheeled in a cart.

“Breakfast,” Aaron said, pushing the cart over to the bed, taking a comfortable seat on the mattress. “How do you think last night went?” he asked, uncovering dishes to reveal an appetizing array of breakfast foods.

“We all had a good time,” Lance said, sitting beside him, tucking his feet in like Aaron had.

“Does Justin want you?” Aaron asked.

“Did you pay that girl?” Lance asked.

Aaron laughed. “No. I’m not that smart..” Seeming to be impressed by that possibility, he unwrapped a muffin. “Does Justin want you?” he repeated.

“Does JC want you?” Lance asked.

“Yeah, but not enough to do anything about it.” Aaron chewed thoughtfully, eyes growing distant. “I have to make him act on it.”

Twenty-four hours later, Aaron already had JC interested. Lance couldn’t get Justin’s attention if he had twenty-four years to do it. “What makes you think he wants you?”

“I’m not sure if he does or not,” Aaron said. “I think he does, but it’s just a feeling. But what’s the point in doubting it? If I think he wants me, I’ll act like he wants me, and I’ll treat him like somebody who wants me, and that’ll get things rolling. If I think he doesn’t want me, and I sit around doubting myself all of the damned time, I’ll end up like you.”

Lance looked at Aaron. “Why did I let you into my room?”

“I had food.” Aaron finished his muffin and reached for a glass of milk. “You guys don’t really have anything planned today, do you?”

“No,” Lance said. “We’re meeting for lunch, and we’re all going out tonight, but that’s it.” Even those were informal activities, and the chances of them all ending up in the same club were scarce.

Aaron perused the bagel choices. “We could have sex.”

Lance blinked, slowly turning the idea over in his head. “You and me?”

“Yeah.” Aaron selected a bagel and glanced at him, completely relaxed. “You want to?”

It would be good sex. He had several hours to kill. “Are you going to get JC?”

“Yeah,” Aaron said. “Absolutely.”

“Then we’d better not.” It would be fun to be with Aaron, but Lance didn’t like to share partners with JC, and JC felt the same way.

Aaron grinned. “You believe me.” He broke off a piece of his bagel, eyes curious and challenging. “If you believe me when I say I’m going to be with JC, why can’t you believe that you’ll be with Justin?”

“Justin doesn’t want me.” It wasn’t like Lance enjoyed saying it, but he’d faced that truth years ago. “He’s never going to want me.”

“But he should,” Aaron said. His gaze grew more focused. “He should want you. There are a couple thousand reasons for it. You know what all of those reasons are. All you have to do is show him. Prove it to him. Convince him.”

Aaron sounded so sure of himself, Lance wanted to believe him. “It’s not that easy,” he said, telling himself not to believe, not to hope. Aaron’s rhetoric couldn’t undo years of personal experience.

“He’s your best friend,” Aaron said. “You know he loves you.”

“That doesn’t mean he wants me,” Lance said. “He’d never look at me that way. I’m his friend, I’m Lance, he already met me and figured me out and checked me off the list years ago.”

“That was the old you, before,” Aaron said. “Look at yourself, look at how much you’ve done since then. You’ve changed so much, that’s not even you anymore. Introduce him to the new you. Make him see who you really are, today.”

“He’s straight,” Lance said. “I haven’t changed enough to grow breasts.”

“He’s bi,” Aaron said.

“He’s not practicing,” Lance said. “It’s more of a theory at this point.”

“Then make it real,” Aaron said. “It’s in him, he wants men, he can want you. Just bring it out of him.”

“He’s never kissed another man, and you think he’s going to fall in love with me?” Lance asked.

“I know he is,” Aaron said. “If you show him how.”

His hair was right, his clothes were right, his stomach was rumbling. It was time to meet the guys for lunch. JC slipped out of his room, closing the door.

“Hey.” Aaron came down the hall. “Going out?”

“I’m having lunch with the guys,” JC said.

“Great,” Aaron said, passing him. “Have a good time.”

“See you.” JC glanced over his shoulder at Aaron’s back, then nodded to security and took a step towards the elevator.

“Oh, hey.”

JC turned.

“Give this to Lance for me.” Aaron tossed something to JC, who caught it in mid-air. “I accidentally took it with me when I left his room this morning. Thanks.”

As Aaron turned to go, walking away, JC looked down at his hand.

Lance’s underwear.

Lunch was in a private, *NSYNC-only room in the hotel. Lance, Joey, and Chris were discussing appetizers when Justin pulled out a chair and sat beside Chris. “What’d I miss?”

“Not much,” Lance said. Justin’s T-shirt hung just right on his shoulders, and Lance could envision the smooth, hard planes of Justin’s chest.

“So far we have a no vote on the calamari but a yes on the potato skins,” Chris said. “What’s your overall mood towards fried mozzarella?”

“If it’s fresh, I’m all for it,” Justin said. “Where’s JC?”

“Headed this way,” Joey said, looking over Lance’s head and kicking out JC’s chair with his foot. “Have a seat,” he offered, as JC neared the table.

“Thanks,” JC said. Settling into the chair beside Lance, he said, “I have something for you.”

“What?” Lance asked. The expression on JC’s face was too calm, too controlled; anger and confusion and accusation flashed in JC’s eyes, but his voice was casual.

A pair of underwear dropped onto Lance’s plate.

His underwear.

Lance stared at it, wondering how it had gotten there.

“If that’s dirty underwear, you’re going to need a new plate,” Chris said.

“Are you offering Lance your own underwear, or giving him back his?” Justin asked.

“This lunch got really interesting really fast,” Joey said.

Lance raised his gaze to JC’s face, baffled. “What are you doing with my underwear?”

“Someone gave it to me, to give back to you,” JC said. “He told me he accidentally took it with him when he left your room this morning.”

Aaron? Aaron had - - he must have swiped them when Lance hadn’t been looking. The bold little fucker. Lance laughed.

“Oh, oh, ooohhh,” Chris said. “Scandalous.”

It wasn’t scandalous, it was hilarious. Lance could just imagine Aaron handing over his underwear to JC. The look on JC’s face must have been priceless!

“Lance got laid,” Joey said, grinning. “Good for you,” he said, reaching over and squeezing Lance’s shoulder. “Who was it?”

Justin sat back, staring at Lance with shocked eyes. “You’re shitting me.”

“Who, who?” Chris asked.

Justin sat forward again, still staring right at him. “You’re laughing about this? He’s young enough to, to be…”

“Who?” Chris demanded. “Young enough to be what?”

“He’s eighteen,” Lance said, attempting to compose himself.

“Who’s eighteen?” Chris asked. “Wait. Wait.”

“Wait,” Joey said.

“That’s what I said,” Chris said.

“You’re fucking Aaron?” Joey asked.

“Aaron Carter?” Chris asked.

Lance lifted his perfectly clean underwear from his plate and tucked it into his pocket. “Maybe we should order.”

“Those are sexy little drawers,” Joey said.

“That a kid peeled off of him,” Justin whispered, glaring at Lance across the table.

“I can take off my own underwear,” Lance said.

“He’s eighteen,” JC said. JC had been giving him angry looks the whole time; he’d been too busy looking at Justin to pay attention.

“Which makes him old enough to know what he’s doing and make his own choices,” Lance said.

“If you’re old enough to vote, you’re old enough to have sex,” Joey said.

“Did anyone at this table not have sex with an adult before age eighteen?” Lance asked.

Justin glared at him.

“But we were mature,” Chris said, and snorted.

“He’s so skinny,” Joey said. “Too skinny for me.”

“He’s also too male for you,” Chris said. “I assume that the younger models still come equipped with a penis. That’s never been up your alley. So to speak. Although it is right up Lance’s alley. So to speak.”

“Everything’s been up your alley,” Joey said to Chris.

“Nothing bigger than my elbow,” Chris said. “Safety first.”

“He’s too young for you,” JC told Lance.

“Are we still harping on that?” Joey asked.

“Aaron’s an adult, Lance is an adult, what they do in the privacy of their own sex lives is up to them and is no one else’s business, as long as no endangered animals are harmed unnecessarily,” Chris said. “Did you injure any Bengal tigers?” he asked Lance.

“Not last night,” Lance said.

“Then there you go,” Chris said, opening his menu. “What about those mozzarella sticks?”

Lance had laughed.

JC couldn’t believe that Lance had laughed.

After lunch, instead of getting off of the elevator on his own floor, he went up to the next floor with Lance and Justin. “Are you following us?” Justin said, as the three of them stepped off of the elevator together.

“I can’t believe you,” JC said to Lance.

“You can’t believe what?” Lance asked, his voice calm, eyebrows lifting.

“You’re having an affair with…” JC didn’t finish his sentence, since they were in the hallway, but he let his eyes say the rest.

“We’re not having an affair,” Lance said. “We’re friends.”

Justin lifted underwear from Lance’s pocket. “This is not friends.”

“Justin, give me-” Lance snatched it from him, stuffing it back into a pocket “-my underwear back.”

Justin grinned. “Bet you thought you’d never say that, didn’t you?”

“No, I didn’t.” Lance looked like he didn’t know whether to frown or laugh; he was turning an embarrassed red.

After looking around, Justin said, “If we’re going to talk about this, let’s get out of the hallway.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Lance said.

“I kind of think there is,” Justin said. Unlocking the door to his room, he went inside. JC followed him in, Lance coming in, too, and closing the door. “It’s just weird,” Justin said to Lance. “He’s so different from you.”

“The things that make him different are what has me interested,” Lance said. “You and I are different, and we’re friends.”

“You and I aren’t fucking,” Justin said.

Lance’s expression was displeased. “I get your point. If you’ve finished judging me for my inexcusable behavior in having a sex life that involves other consenting adults-”

“It’s not that cut and dried,” JC said. “We’ve known him since he was a kid-”

“He’s all grown up now,” Lance said. “You’ve known Justin since he was a kid, does that mean you couldn’t have sex with him?”

“Whoa, hey,” Justin said.

“That’s different,” JC said.

“Aaron’s known me for a long time, he’s interesting, he’s attractive, we have a lot of things in common, we have a great time together - - that sounds exactly like someone I should be with,” Lance said. “What about you?” he asked JC. “Did you have a good time with him last night?”

That wasn’t a fair question. “Aaron’s a lot of fun,” JC said. “Of course I enjoyed him, of course he’s good-looking, of course he and I have a lot in common. That doesn’t mean that I’m going to hit on him.”

Lance shrugged. “Why not?”

“What?” JC asked. He couldn’t believe this.

“Why not?” Lance repeated. “He’s fun, he’s cute, he’s sexy, he’s available-”

“What happened to you?” JC asked, flummoxed. “It’s suddenly okay to fuck around with teenagers? Why are you hooking up with Aaron Carter?”

“I’m not,” Lance said. “That’s what I was trying to tell you, one of those times you interrupted me. We’re just friends, I haven’t had sex with him. We haven’t even kissed. I didn’t even know he had my underwear. He’s probably just playing a joke on us.”

“Really?” Justin asked.

“Really,” Lance said. “He’s great, I love talking to him, but he’s interested in someone else.”

“Thank god,” Justin said, and smacked Lance’s arm. “Don’t do that to us!”

“What if I were with him?” Lance asked. “What would be so wrong with that?”

“He’s just… He’s not somebody who makes sense for you,” Justin said. “I wouldn’t put the two of you together.”

“Who would you put Aaron with?” Lance asked.

“I don’t know… JC?” Justin suggested. “He liked Nick so much, maybe he should try the mini-version.”

“Nick and Aaron are completely different people,” JC said. He couldn’t believe that Justin would say something like that. Him and Aaron? But Aaron was, Aaron was so…

“I don’t know,” Justin said. “Aaron reminds me a lot of Nick.”

Aaron was a lot like Nick. And a lot like Aaron. And JC didn’t want to have this conversation anymore.

JC would fly out the next morning. Out of this city. Away from Aaron. He looked forward to dropping the whole subject.

JC was glad that Lance and Aaron were just friends. He was glad that Aaron was interested in someone else, so Lance and Aaron wouldn’t become involved. The idea of Lance and Aaron, it, well, he didn’t like it.

He decided not to examine why.

Lance knocked on Aaron’s door.

Opening the door with a smile, Aaron asked, “How was lunch?”

“You’re a sneaky little shit,” Lance said.

Aaron guided him inside, closing the door and giving him a wicked grin. “What’d JC say?”

“Well, thanks to you, everyone thought that you and I were having sex,” Lance said. “JC and Justin decided that they had a problem with it, and harassed me about it, until I told them that you and I are just friends.”

“When did you tell them that?” Aaron asked. “How long did they think you and I were together?”

“A couple of hours,” Lance said. “The whole way through lunch.”

“Good,” Aaron said. “JC had two hours to think about my sex life. Justin had two hours to think about yours, too.”

“So this was your version of doing me a favor?” Lance asked, amused.

“Sure,” Aaron said. “Two birds, one stone. How’s JC now? He’s okay with it?”

“I don’t know,” Lance said. “Something’s bugging him.”

“He wants me,” Aaron said, sitting on the foot of the bed.

“Or he’s constipated,” Lance said. “Or he has a hangnail. Or he’s worried about the national debt. Anything could be bothering him.”

“You’re too logical,” Aaron said, flopping onto his back, arms spread over his head.

“That’s a fault?” Lance asked.

Aaron brought his knees up, tucking in and slowly somersaulting back to the headboard, relaxing there against the pillows. “Follow your gut. Go with what you want to be true. Screw logic.”

“Screw logic,” Lance repeated dryly. “That’s wisdom.”

“Who cares about being wise?” Aaron asked. “Who cares about being right? You’ve followed logic every step of the way, and I don’t see Justin in your bed.”

“I don’t see JC in yours,” Lance said.

“You will.” Aaron pushed the pillows into a different configuration, getting more comfortable. “Look, just listen to me for a minute. JC can have anyone he wants. So can Justin. They have everything, they have fame, wealth, talent, looks - - that kind of money, that kind of body, that kind of star power, that kind of sex appeal, they can have anyone they want.”

“This is helping,” Lance said.

“That’s your problem,” Aaron said, sitting forward. “You let that kind of bullshit get in your way. You think that Justin’s so hot you don’t stand a chance. That kind of thinking won’t get you anywhere. Look at it in a different way. Turn it around until you find the right angle.”

“All right.” Lance didn’t know why he was playing along, why he wanted so badly to believe when he knew it would never happen. “What’s the right angle?”

“You love Justin, right? And he loves you. As a friend, yeah, but as his best friend, one of the best friends he’s ever had. You guys grew up together. He depends on you. He respects you. The only thing that’s missing, the one thing that could make you the greatest love affair of his life, is sexual attraction.”

“Yeah, the fact that he has absolutely no interest in me is really a big drawback,” Lance said.

“Shut up!” Aaron threw a pillow at him. “You’re so damned cynical. Justin already loves you. You just have to make him love you.”

“Which is a simple two-step process?” Lance guessed.

“How can you stand being around yourself?” Aaron demanded. “You’re never going to do anything, are you? You’re going to hang around doing nothing and watch other people get him. You can’t even say that they’re taking him away from you, because you’ve done nothing to have him in the first place. Justin could be yours, Lance, he could be one hundred percent yours, if you’d go get him!”

“How?!” Lance demanded. “What do you want me to do, crawl into his bed at night? Walk up and kiss him? That won’t make him suddenly fall in love with me, that’ll make him afraid of me.”

“How do you live without hope?” Aaron asked. “How can you sit still and not go after him?”

“If I had a shot at Justin, I would have taken it by now,” Lance said. “I’m not going to waste my time and hurt myself and trash our friendship by making a move he doesn’t want.”

“I don’t understand you,” Aaron said. “I couldn’t not go after JC.”

“Maybe they’re right,” Lance said. “Maybe you are too young.”

“No,” Aaron said. “Maybe you’re too scared.”

JC showered thoroughly, then shaved carefully. After he put on some of his best underwear, casual cotton that displayed his package very well, he stopped himself.

What was he doing?

He was acting like he expected to get laid.

Well, so what? He could find someone at the clubs. He could get laid. It happened all of the time; why should tonight be any different?

It wasn’t like he wanted to pick up anyone in particular. It wasn’t like he was specifically going out cruising. But if he was going out, why not go out looking his best?

Why not look good?

Why not attract someone’s attention?

“I don’t know why I brought you along,” Lance said, watching Aaron blend Crown and Coke.

“Because watching me land JC will give you more confidence to go after Justin,” Aaron said. Finished, he tried it. “Just right,” he announced with a smile.

“You look good,” Lance said. Aaron’s pants and open, button-down shirt were too large, baggy, but his white undershirt was snug to his torso, clinging to the sleek, firm muscles of his chest and abs. “Skinny, but good.”

“You look hot,” Aaron said with a grin and a wink. “You want to dance?”

“Not with you,” Lance said. His gaze wandered to one side. His stomach twisted. “Justin’s here.”

“Smile at him,” Aaron said. Lance tried. A sharp kick connected with his shin. “Not like that. Like you’ve already fucked him and you know he wants it again.” Lance tried again. “Damn, wow, okay, a little friendlier and less like a porn star.” Lance modified his expression. “Good, yeah, like that,” Aaron said. Justin smiled back at him, heading in his direction. Then someone waylaid Justin, taking his attention and pulling him aside.

“Shit.” Lance dropped his smile.

“What?” Aaron glanced over one shoulder. “Oh. Go over to him.”

“For what?” Lance asked.

“To say hi,” Aaron said.

“To say hi?” Lance repeated. “That’s stupid.”

“Let him know he’s important to you,” Aaron said. “Seek him out. Treat him the way you want him to treat you.”

“Give him head?” Lance asked.

Aaron grinned. “Hey, go for it.”

Stupid. He couldn’t walk over there just to say hi.

“I don’t know what you’re so afraid of,” Aaron said. “He’d be happy to see you. He’s never rejected you, he’s never turned you down.”

“That’s a misrepresentation of facts,” Lance said.

“No, it’s the truth,” Aaron said. “Get your ass over there.”

What the hell. He wasn’t going out on a limb; he was just a friend saying hi to a friend. Lance rose, walking over to there Justin was standing with someone else. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Justin said, flashing that charismatic smile. “Lance, Lisa. Lisa, Lance.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lance said, shaking her hand.

“Can we come over to your table?” Justin asked.

Like Justin needed to ask. “Sure,” Lance said. “Right this way.”

Entering the club, JC ran into Chris first. Then he saw Lance and Justin at a table with a few other people. Stopping by the bar, he ordered a drink and talked to Joey for a few minutes. Then, as Joey walked away to talk to someone else, JC heard, “Do you come here often?” Turning, he came face-to-face with Aaron. “Hi,” Aaron said.

“Hi.” The faint scar on Aaron’s lip distracted his gaze. He wondered what it was from. Aaron’s mouth was so, looked so…

Aaron licked his lips, and the movement snapped JC out of his reverie. “What?” Aaron asked. “Do I have something gross on my face?”

“No,” JC said, dragging his gaze up to Aaron’s eyes.

“Sorry about the,” Aaron smiled, “underwear thing.”

“I fell for it,” JC admitted.

“I wish I’d been there to see you drop his drawers right onto his plate in front of the other guys.” Aaron laughed.

“He told me later that the two of you are just friends,” JC said. His brain seemed to want confirmation from Aaron.

“Oh, yeah,” Aaron said, leaning back against the bar, shoulders back, hips forward. “I mean, we talked about it, about hooking up, but we’re both interested in other people, and we don’t want to mess that up.”

What? They’d talked about it? “It might have happened? You discussed it?”

“Sure,” Aaron said. “What, you don’t think I’m good enough for him?” Aaron grinned. “You don’t think he’s good enough for me?”

They might have - - they’d talked about it, it might have happened, it still could happen. “It’s not about anybody being good enough for anybody, it’s just, I don’t think, it’s not a good idea,” JC said.

“Why not?” Aaron’s fingers rubbed idly over his stomach as though stroking the ribbing of his undershirt. His body was so lean, so fit… “I think we’d make a good couple.”

His skin looked so smooth, JC wanted to touch the line of his jaw. JC wondered who Aaron was interested in. “You can’t date him.”

“Why not?” Aaron asked again. His smile teased JC, his eyes lively. “You have someone else in mind for me?”

JC couldn’t begin to address that question, not out loud or in the privacy of his own mind. Instead, he took a drink to buy himself time.

Aaron waved to someone behind JC, then took a sip from his own glass. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Shit. “Which question?” JC asked, wishing he’d walked away from Aaron minutes ago.

“If I shouldn’t be with Lance, who do you think I should be with?” Aaron asked.

“I can’t answer that,” JC said, latching onto a response. “I don’t know you well enough.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “You’ve known me for years.”

“You’re different now.”

“Am I?” Aaron asked, straightening.

“You’re older,” JC said. “You’re more confident, more mature, more capable, more experienced.” JC quickly took a different path, away from that line of thought. “Taller.”

Aaron’s smile was amused. “Sounds like you know me pretty well.”

JC had to get away from him. “I’d better go say hi to Justin and Lance.” Shit. Was his own brain conspiring against him?

“Great,” Aaron said, finishing his drink. “I’ll go with you.”

Justin left them, and all of the electricity in the air dissipated. Lance was alone with JC and Aaron at the table. JC seemed unfocused and distracted, losing the thread of conversation, so Lance was left to talk to Aaron.

JC definitely was preoccupied. Was Aaron right? Did JC want him? Or was that unfocused gaze the result of constipation, a hangnail, and the national debt?

The way Aaron laughed.

The way he made Lance laugh.

The way his shirt molded to his hard, lean physique.

The laughing sparkle in his eyes. Eyes so dark, shimmering with such unexpected light…

He sat in the nook of the booth, one leg draped over the corner edge of the table. If someone slipped a hand just inside his pant leg, just under the fabric at his ankle, and slowly caressed upward, stroking the muscle of his calf, what would that feel like? JC’s fingers curled inward.

Chris stopped by their table for a while. Just as Chris was walking away again, Lance mentioned that he hadn’t seen Justin in the past hour.

“Oh, he’s gone,” Chris said. “He went somewhere else with those people.”

Gone? Justin had left. Lance hadn’t known. He hadn’t even bothered with a quick, “See you later?” He’d just taken off.

Lance wouldn’t chase after him tonight. There was no point to it.

Beside him, Aaron tapped the tabletop. “If Justin went, it must be a pretty good place.” Aaron looked at JC. “You want to go?”

JC’s gaze was shy yet overly attentive; his smile was sweet and self-deprecating. “Sure, yeah.” He scratched behind his ear. “Let’s go.”

Lance stared at JC. “Wow.”

“What?” Aaron asked.

“What?” JC asked, blinking, dragging his gaze away from Aaron as he realized that Lance had spoken.

JC was fascinated. Adoring. Infatuated. Infatuated? With Aaron? Lance wanted to laugh. How the hell had that happened?

“Okay, whatever,” Aaron said. “You’re coming, too,” he told Lance, lowering his leg. “Let’s go.”

It wouldn’t hurt to pay some attention to Aaron for one night.

There was nothing wrong with looking.

After tonight, they wouldn’t see each other again for months, at least. JC could enjoy Aaron’s company for another few hours, and then they’d part ways. No harm, no foul.

It wasn’t like he’d ever have a chance to indulge his interest. His vague, harmless, unspecified interest.

Aaron was attractive. He’d be stupid to deny it. JC had a lot of very attractive friends that he’d never once approached sexually. It was normal to notice that another person was good-looking. It was fine to notice that another person was a sexual being. A problem would arise only if JC acted on that noticing. But he wouldn’t act, not tonight; and after that, he wouldn’t have a chance.

They’d hang out for another few hours, and then it would all be over.

As they walked into the club, Aaron’s arm came around his shoulders, pulling him in suddenly close. “You want to come dance with me?”

JC’s eyes dipped down to Aaron’s mouth, then back up to those inviting brown eyes. It wasn’t like he’d actually dance with Aaron. They’d just both be out there, dancing. Like last night.

Aaron’s body felt firm against his, hot, tight, all lean, hard muscle over bone.

“JC,” Aaron said, his other hand coming up to tap JC’s forehead. “I need an answer.”

There was such a warm invitation in that smile, JC couldn’t possibly have resisted, no matter what Aaron asked. “Yeah.” Just a few more hours to indulge himself. “Let’s dance.”

Lance saw Justin’s bodyguard outside the VIP bathroom. He went inside; Justin was at the sinks, washing his hands. “Hi.”

“Lance!” Justin looked surprised, but happy to see him. “When did you get here?”

“We just came in. Me and JC and Aaron.”

Justin checked his reflection, brushing his fingers through his hair. “I look like shit.”

He looked gorgeous. His hair had started to pick up a slight wave as it grew out, his light beard looked like something Lance should stroke and nuzzle, his perfect body was draped in expensively casual clothes, and when he rubbed one elbow and smiled at Lance again, Lance loved him.

“You’re dancing with us tonight,” Justin said.

“Sure,” Lance said. “If you think you can keep up.”

A quick, pleased smile. Justin was better than everyone at everything, but he enjoyed watching others succeed. “Then let’s go. We can’t keep the world waiting.”

Aaron was dancing differently. Less professionally. More sexually. If he’d been holding back the night before, he was letting everything out now. The roll of his hips was so explicit, JC could hardly believe that the police weren’t being notified.

JC had seen a lot of things in clubs. JC had done a lot of things in clubs. But Aaron simulating sex made him blush.

During one of the times when Aaron and his partner were both vertical, Justin came around from behind JC, reaching for another girl and pulling her in, joining the party. JC realized that Lance was right beside him, and wondered how long Lance had been there.

“That looks like…”

Sex, in JC’s opinion.

“…fun,” Lance said dryly.

Yeah. Fun.

Justin’s skeletal structure wasn’t bone. It was liquid. Nothing else could explain the way his body moved.

In the space of three minutes, Justin managed to put his hands and his groin on just about every inch of his partner. She’d touched more places on Justin’s body than Lance had since they’d met.

Being around Justin was almost a magical experience sometimes. He was so vibrant, so charismatic, so full of that special something that he glowed with it.

When Justin smiled at him, Lance treasured it, every single time, even after all of these years. When something he said made Justin laugh, Lance made a mental note so he could make it happen again. When Justin looked right into his eyes for a serious conversation, Lance dedicated himself to easing any concern that Justin had. When Justin sang, Lance either stopped everything to listen, or strove to provide the perfect support and harmony. When Justin danced, Lance was in awe.

When Justin was visibly hard, Lance’s brain short-circuited.

Lance prided himself on his intelligence. He liked to stay on top of things, liked to figure things out and provide quick answers. His brain worked constantly. He’d been around Justin in very close quarters for years, and he’d learned how to keep a conversation smoothly rolling while Justin moved through various states of undress. But when Justin was sexually aroused and Lance could tell, all higher functions shut down. Lance was surprised he could still drool properly.

Justin was aroused, groping and grinding.

Then Justin turned, looked right at him and - - oh, right, JC was standing beside him. Justin looked at them, grinned, and gestured for them to join the fun.

Why not?

It was a club. Clubs were for dancing. JC knew as many provocative moves as anyone else. Justin was doing it, so it wasn’t like, well, it wouldn’t be misconstrued as, it wouldn’t look like he and Aaron were...

JC got tired of rationalizing his behavior. Taking his eyes off of Aaron for a moment, he located someone with promising moves and a come-hither smile, and pulled her over to Justin and Aaron.

She said something in Justin’s ear.

Justin laughed and gestured for Lance again.

Aaron grinned, rolling his hips against JC’s partner for a few beats. “About time you got out here.”

Sweat trickled down Justin’s sideburns. With a smile, he shared his partner with Lance. Wordlessly, Lance matched Justin’s rhythm, following Justin’s movements. It didn’t take long for Lance to figure out that if he had his hands on the outside curves of her ass, the backs of his fingers would brush Justin’s thighs. He kept them there.

Justin’s gaze was down, inwardly focused; he’d gone to that mental place again, wherever he went when he danced.

Lance wished that he could go there. Wished that he could know where it was, what was in Justin’s head. Justin spent so much time inside, thinking, writing, creating. Zoning out during performances. Lance wanted to peer into his brain and see what it was like in there.

Justin was sweating and aroused. Lance was sweating and aroused. If only he could remove the barriers between them, if only he could make his move, if only. He resented the girl between them, for the very fact of being between them; but he was grateful to her, too, for giving him this chance to be so close, to be so involved, as Justin’s hands slid smoothly and sexually over her body.

Grinding. Rolling. Twisting. Flexing. Writhing. Thrusting. Rocking. Now that they were all participating, Aaron had toned it down somewhat, but it was still so explicit, so sexual, that JC had to find a way to make it stop. He’d watched for long enough, for too long. It had turned him on and he couldn’t pretend he didn’t know why. Now that he was dancing, too, he found himself grinding against his partner like he was getting off on her.

He wasn’t getting off on her. He was about to get off from the friction of their bodies, but he was getting off on…

Aaron’s hips swiveled, knees bending quickly as he dropped to the ground and popped back up.

…something else.

Lance wanted to lick sweat from Justin’s beard.

He wanted to slide his hands back a few inches from her ass to Justin’s thighs. He wished that he could feel the well-trained muscle flexing under his palms.

A gentle hand cupped sweetly between his thighs. Lance closed his eyes, running his hands slowly up her back, almost moaning when his hands were pressed between her back and Justin’s firm chest. The heat of Justin’s body warmed him the whole way through.

Unbearable.

JC groaned as she went down between his thighs, his eyes on Aaron’s back, the shift and roll of Aaron’s shoulders, the bend of Aaron’s knees, the twitch and sway of Aaron’s ass.

He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take it. He had to get out of there. Aaron was too close; if he reached out, he could wrap his hand around one small, rock-hard bicep and drag Aaron closer and-

She was back, disrupting his line of sight.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, twisting away. “I’m sorry. J, I have to go,” he said, and made himself scarce. He had to go, he had to put space between himself and Aaron, he had to get his head together, he had to slam on the brakes before anything happened.

The sound of JC’s voice disrupted Lance’s fantasy just as he was edging Justin closer to the bed. Opening his eyes, he saw Justin kiss their partner’s cheek and gently push her off on Lance, slipping away.

Fuck that. “Excuse me,” Lance said. “Thank you,” he added, and left her there, turning to follow Justin.

JC was out the door in record time, escaping into the safety of the car.

“Where the hell did he go?” Justin asked, looking with frustration in all directions as Lance approached. “I lost him and he fucking disappeared.”

“Maybe he went out the other way,” Lance suggested, wiping sweat from his face.

“What the hell happened?” Justin asked, like Lance would know the answer.

“He,” Lance looked around quickly, then leaned in for privacy. Justin leaned in, too, automatically, lowering his head to place his ear near Lance’s mouth, their bodies close, Justin’s hand resting on his shoulder. “He has a crush on Aaron,” Lance murmured, wishing that he had the balls to put his hand on Justin. Justin’s side, maybe, or Justin’s arm. His gaze appreciatively tracked a droplet of sweat as it slid slowly down Justin’s cheek.

“Are you fucking with me?” Justin asked, his voice pitched just right for Lance’s ear.

Lance smiled. “It happened kind of fast.”

Justin raised his head, his eyes finding Lance’s, his eyebrows raised. He didn’t repeat his earlier words, but the question was clear.

“I’m not fucking with you,” Lance said.

“Okay.” Accepting that, Justin looked around the club entrance. “You think he went back to the hotel?”

“Either that or in the bathroom,” Lance said.

“He’s not in the bathroom.” Aaron was at his side, breathless. “I checked.”

“You,” Justin poked Aaron in the chest with an “I’m warning you” expression, “are causing trouble.”

“I was just dancing,” Aaron said. “You guys stay here and hang out so we don’t all run out causing a big scene.”

“Yeah?” Justin asked. “What are you going to do while we stay here?”

Aaron was already in motion. “I’m going to talk to JC.”

Just dancing. Just dancing. Dancing in a club, hot music and hot girls. There was nothing new about it. It was so overdone, it shouldn’t even be interesting anymore.

Then why was he reacting this way? Why was his body doing this to him?

His hotel room wasn’t sanctuary enough. But it would have to suffice. He’d take a shower, he’d go to bed. He’d sleep. Hours would pass. Then he could get up, and go to the airport, and get out. Get away. Escape.

He’d told himself that he could handle a few hours hanging out with Aaron. But Aaron was proving to be more than he could handle.

Just talking with Aaron, just looking, wasn’t enough. He wanted more.

Each passing second ticked him that much closer to his personal deadline. As long as he stuck to his shower-sleep-plane agenda, as long as he stayed away from Aaron and kept that door locked, he’d be fine.

Sitting across from him at the table, glasses and bottles pushed to one side, Justin looked into Lance’s eyes like Lance held all of the information he required. “Explain it to me again.”

“Aaron wants JC,” Lance said. “Not just for sex. He wants to have a relationship.”

“A relationship,” Justin repeated.

“He’s wanted JC for a while. He decided that this weekend, his only mission would be to get JC to want him.”

“And you think he succeeded,” Justin said.

“I know he succeeded,” Lance said. “You know how JC gets when he’s interested in someone?”

“He gets weird,” Justin said. “He gets stupid and he laughs a lot and he smiles until his eyes disappear.”

“Right. Well, he has a crush on Aaron.”

“Not JC,” Justin said.

“JC,” Lance said.

“Damn.” Justin sat back. His gaze wandered. His fingers drummed on the tabletop. “Freaky.”

The shower was cold enough to frighten his erection and bring back sanity. Calmer in body and clearer in mind, JC dried off, giving the matter further thought.

First point: He was attracted to Aaron. That was all well and good, but there was no reason for him to act on that attraction.

Second point: Aaron was eighteen. Well on his way to nineteen, if JC remembered correctly. Old enough to make his own decisions. Certainly old enough to be considered a consenting adult.

Third point: JC was twenty-nine. A lot of people saw nothing wrong with an age gap, but a teenager dating a thirty-year-old? Aaron was just too young for him.

He only had a few more hours to hold his hormones in check. Once he got away from the hotel, to the airport, he’d be safe. A week from now, neither one of them would give each other another thought.

A quick tap at his door. “JC?”

Lively brown eyes. Messily spiked blond hair. Long neck. Soft lips. Long limbs, lean body. JC stared at the closed door, brain spinning frantically. He’d pretend not to be there. He’d pretend he was asleep, or out somewhere, or unavailable. Aaron couldn’t get into his room. He’d wait; Aaron would go away.

“JC.” Soft scratching. “I know you’re in there.” Aaron’s fingers drummed on the door.

JC pulled on underwear, eyeing the door warily. Did he dare?

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Track pants. T-shirt.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

JC approached the door cautiously. He placed a hand against it. He could wait until Aaron went away. But then he wouldn’t see Aaron again for months. This was his last chance to interact. His last opportunity to watch Aaron laugh. His last glance.

Tap.

Five minutes. Four minutes. He’d just let Aaron in for a few minutes. Just to say good night. He’d left the club abruptly; this would be a chance to say a proper good night. He’d take a few minutes of Aaron’s time, one-on-one. To see what it was like to be alone with Aaron without other distractions. And then Aaron would go, and tomorrow he’d leave, and it would be over.

Tap.

JC opened the door.

Aaron grinned. “Took you long enough.” Stepping inside, he pushed the door shut behind himself. “You can’t run off without saying good-bye.”

“Yeah.” JC rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry about that.” He liked the way Aaron looked at him. Like he was interesting. Like Aaron would rather look at him than anything else in the room. “Good-bye,” he offered.

Aaron laughed. “It’s too late now,” he said, walking past JC, roaming the room. JC turned to keep him in sight. There was an extra layer of color across his cheeks, and his movements were relaxed and loose. That suggested to JC that he was drunk, but not stumbling drunk, just a little buzzed. JC wanted to kiss him and taste rum and Coke. “You looked great. I’d love to go out with you again sometime.”

“Yeah,” JC said. “I’d like that.” It couldn’t happen. But he wanted it.

Long, slender fingers skimmed across the top of the dresser. “You looked great tonight. Dancing like that.” Aaron turned lazily to face him, leaning back against the TV slightly, smiling. “I had a great time this weekend.”

“So did I.” He was glad that Aaron’d had a good weekend. He wanted Aaron to have fun. “It’s been busy, but a lot of fun.”

“It was great to see you,” Aaron said. He shifted slowly, moving his weight from one foot to the other with the ease of a ripple passing through his body. “I’m glad we had a chance to hang out.”

“It’s been a lot of fun,” JC said. Had he said that already? “Maybe you can come back next year.”

“I’d love to,” Aaron said. “Listen, I don’t know if I’m going to see you in the morning, so I just wanted to say good-bye now.”

“When are you leaving?” JC asked. “Maybe we could have breakfast.” Just breakfast. A nice, public, morning meal. He’d get to face Aaron across a table. Talk. Watch Aaron smile. Watch Aaron eat. And, face-to-face, over an extended private conversation, he’d learn that they had nothing in common, and then he could walk away without ever looking back.

“Breakfast would be great,” Aaron said. “You want to meet downstairs?”

“How about eight thirty?” JC asked.

That look of disgust was pure Nick. “How about nine?”

JC smiled. “Nine’s good for me.”

“Okay. Well, if we’re not saying good-bye now, I’ll just go.” Aaron walked past JC and to the door. Pausing with one hand on the doorknob, he gave JC a warmly happy smile. “See you later.”

“Bye,” JC said.

Aaron slipped out into the hallway. The door closed.

Breakfast.

What could it hurt? It wasn’t like he’d see Aaron again. It was only breakfast; nothing would happen. They’d eat. They’d get to know each other better. Then they’d part ways.

He could last for a few more hours.

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