Snow White

by Karen and LB
© 2002

The final story in the series, this is actually the first chronologically.

Apologies to and BSB/Nick Carter fans. We needed a bad guy, and he fit the bill. We don't, however, believe he'd do any of this stuff.

The sound of the magazine smacking against the mirror into which he'd been glaring isn't nearly as satisfying as Nick hoped it would be. "Fuck!" he screams to the empty room. "It's always HIM. I'm sick of seeing HIM in these rags. I'M the cute one! I'M the one these chicks cream over." He paces the room like an angry tiger. But something catches his eye. It's the silver envelope that was delivered earlier. Inside:

Teen People cordially invites you to celebrate the 21 Hottest Stars Under 21 . . .

He'll be there, Nick reminds himself. He'll be there, and so will I. The party is in two weeks. That will give him plenty of time to figure out a way to take him down. Because NO ONE was going to claim his throne. NO ONE.

***

Lance steps out of the limo amid flashes of light and screams from admiring fans. The rest of the guys tumble out one by one; he absent-mindedly watches for JC. Somehow, when JC is there, he feels more confident. Joey is cool and silly at the same time. He'll work the crowd. Chris will make everyone laugh. Justin, well, he's Justin and doesn't need to do more than breathe. But JC can walk into a crowd of strangers and put everyone at ease. Lance loves these gigs, but there's always a part of him that wonders what he's doing here among all these celebrities. So once they're on the red carpet, they pose for pictures and joke around and make their way slowly inside the club where the Teen People party is being held.

Lance needs a drink. He knows he's not legal yet, but no one ever cares at these things and he never has a problem getting served. So after making small talk with some of the editors and a few actors, he grabs Joey and they make their way to the bar.

JC glances around the room, greeting the many familiar faces. All the usual suspects are gathered, and JC fleetingly wonders what the point of all these awards things is. Don't they become redundant after a while? Still, he does what's expected of him, smiling and nodding as he walks over to the bar. Suddenly he notices the one discordant note in the hum of the crowd: a scowling face among the many professionally and few genuinely smiling faces. And scowling doesn't quite describe it--"scowl" doesn't carry the connotation of menace, of malice that this face is radiating. JC turns to see the object of the blue-eyed glare, and makes a mental note to ask Lance what he ever did to piss off Nick Carter.

Nick eyes his prey at the bar. Good boy, drink up. In fact, Nick makes a note to buy the creep a few drinks himself, just to insure that he'll be good and soused by night's end. Look at them, like sheep all flocking together. Where one goes, the others follow. Little Golden Boy. I'll show him. I'll show them all.

A young blonde sidles up to Nick. He smiles down at her and whispers something in her ear. They both look toward the bar, and the girl smiles. Nick decides to have some fun. He approaches the bar and jostles his quarry.

"Oh man, I'm so sorry. Lance? Man, how are you? Congrats on the new single. It's dope. Hey, let me buy you a drink." He holds his hand out and Lance hugs him, smiling.

"Thanks, dude. Yeah, it's been pretty exciting. I hear y'all are working on a new album." Lance is genuinely interested and works his way off to the side with his drink so they can talk.

That stupid accent. He should be baling hay or cleaning out horse stalls. "Yeah, we've got some things going on. You know, we should really collaborate--do some kind of boy band duet or something." Nick puts his arm around the smaller boy and forces his eyes to light up as he speaks.

Lance laughs. "Yeah, that's not a bad idea. We should all do dinner some night, when we're all back in Orlando."

"Right. I'll give you a call sometime, Lance. Good seeing you, dude." He slinks off, leaving the unsuspecting Lance to squash his way through the crowd looking for his companions.

JC makes his way to the bar and, looking down toward the other end is surprised to see Lance and Nick apparently having a pleasant, normal conversation. He wonders if he imagined the angry expression he saw on Nick earlier. A trick of bad lighting? He takes his drink and looks around for the others, and, catching a glimpse of Lance's blond spikes, heads off in that direction.

Lance is starting to relax. This party isn't so bad, after all. There are a lot of people he already knows, and some new faces too. Like that blonde girl who keeps looking at him. She's cute, but she's just like all the other cute blonde girls he meets at these things. Still, he's starting to catch a buzz from the gin and tonic in his hand, and the music is kicking up. Maybe he just needs to dance for a while. He glances around to see if Joey or JC is nearby. He spots Justin across the room, but no sign of the others. But that girl looks like she'd like to dance, so Lance begins to work his way through the crowd.

Nick retreats through the crowd, finding a somewhat sheltered spot from which to observe the proceedings. When he sees Lance approach the blond, a smile, most unpleasant, spreads over his face, aging the normally attractive young visage tremendously. Things are going exactly according to plan.

They dance. The music is loud; the drinks keep flowing. Somehow, there is always a waiter or waitress nearby taking orders, and somehow his glass always seems to be full. Joey dances his way over at one point and Lance and he put on a little show for the crowd, laughing and hamming it up to some old Madonna remix. But the blonde is always there, Holly? Hester?? Something like that.

Soon, Lance finds himself in the VIP area, at a table in the back. Heaven, if that's her name, sits close and runs her fingers along his shirt sleeve. She's saying something about living in New York, working in New York, but Lance can barely focus because the room is starting to spin. Okay, last gin and tonic for you, Bass, he thinks.

Nick continues to hover around the periphery, watching. After a while, he nods his head at Heaven and indicates the alcove where the ladies' room is located. Heaven excuses herself and follows Nick. "How's it going?" Nick demands.

"Um, okay, I guess . . . He's pretty drunk."

"Drunk is good. Do I hear a 'but' in there?"

"Yeah, I've dropped hints about being willing to go home with him, and . . . nothing. I put my hand on his thigh and he apologized for his leg getting in the way of my hand."

"Shit! Maybe I should have gotten a boy instead of you."

"I don't even think that's it. I just don't think he picks people up."

"Doesn't matter. We'll just have you outside his door, early, screaming. Loverboy kicked you out and all. Lucky we're in the same hotel." Even more delicious, Nick thinks. HE'll get to have sex with her tonight, besides smacking her around, before dumping her outside Bass's room. The perfect touch of authenticity.

"Fine. I should get back." Heaven pauses, looks back. "When this is all over, I'm gonna be your girlfriend, right? Like you promised?"

"Of course, babe," Nick replies, with his million dollar smile. Like hell, babe, Nick thinks. When this is all over, your name's gonna be synonymous with Groupie Slut.

Back at the table, JC, having watched the blonde leave, slips into her empty seat. "Hey, buddy, how're you doing?" he asks Lance, noticing his someone unfocused appearance.

"Good, fine. I DANCED, JC."

"I noticed, Lance. You're very drunk, you know."

"Verridrunk!" Lance giggles, an odd sound for that low voice to make.

"You 'bout ready to head back?"

"Back? Where'sh back? Your back? You have a nice back, JCeeeee. A veriniceback. I was talkin' to a GIRL, but shhhhhhhhh, don' tell anyone. She's preeeeety, but not as preeeeety as you, Joshy. I think I'm gonna go sleep now."

"Yeah, sleep sounds like a good idea, Lance. You are gonna HATE the morning. C'mon." JC slips an arm around Lance's waist and eases him out of his seat, walking him as unobtrusively as possible through the VIP lounge. At the doorway, he's met by Nick Carter, who smiles indulgently. "Too much to drink?"

"He's just tired."

"Yeah, right. Let me give you a hand." He throws an arm around Lance's shoulder, and the three walk out together, Nick talking and laughing, looking to any observer like friends having a great time. As he helps JC slide Lance into the limo, Nick carefully slips Heaven's phone number into Lance's jacket pocket. Then he bids his friends good night and walks back into the club. Everything's in place, he thinks. Plenty of people saw them together.

***

Blurs of light, movement, a long hallway. Then darkness, blessed darkness.

***

"You creep! Lance, baby, c'mon, let me back in!" The screeching is coming from somewhere near. Lance's eyelids feel like steel doors, and moments pass before he can actually get them open. He's in a bed, the covers half off. He's in his shorts; his body feels so heavy. And his head--what is that NOISE???

"Laaaaaaaaaance!!!" Okay, sitting up is not a good thing, he realizes, as a wave of nausea hits him. But the longer he sits here the worse it will get, so he forces his feet on the floor and staggers to the door. Hotel room. That's where he is. New York? He turns the handle and is face to face with a young, blonde girl. She looks familiar but he can't place her.

Heaven throws her arms around Lance, and says very loudly, "Lance, baby, please don't kick me out." A door opens down the hall and a man peers out. "FINE!" Heaven shouts, "if that's the way you want it!" and she takes off down the hall, her clothes hanging off, her shoes in one hand, her hair a mess.

The stranger, confused, gazes at the disheveled young man down the hall and closes his door softly.

Lance, unable to comprehend what just happened, slinks back into the room and falls back against the door.

***

When JC awakens, it's a little past noon. His first thought is to check on Lance, so he pulls on some sweat pants and a t-shirt, and grabs Lance's key card, which he held onto last night, from his nightstand. He steps out of his room, and is immediately blinded by a strong flash. He glares at the photographer and shouts, "Where the hell's security? Lonnie!" The response is nearly instantaneous and the photographer is removed, but not before handing JC a newspaper.

JC goes to Lance's door and knocks, and when there's no answer, he slips the card into the lock. He pushes the door open and meets resistance, but manages to open it enough to see that Lance is lying on the floor in front of the door. He hears a groan, which assures him that Lance is alive, and hisses at him to get up. Lance finally manages to sit up enough to let JC in, and JC drops to the floor beside his younger friend. "You okay? What are you doing here?"

"I don't know. Josh?"

"Yeah, Lance?" JC helps Lance to his feet and deposits him once again on his bed.

"I'm an idiot."

"No argument here." JC calls from the bathroom, where he has gone to locate some aspirin. He hands it to Lance, along with a bottle of water.

Lance winces, as if the mere act of swallowing gives him pain, but he manages to choke the pills down.

"Josh?"

"Yeah?"

"What's that?" He indicates the newspaper that JC had dropped by the door.

"I don't know," JC replies as he crosses the room to retrieve it. "Some photographer just handed it to me. Oh, my God . . . "

"What? Josh, what?"

JC silently hands him the newspaper, with its front page photo of the girl Lance had talked to last night--what was her name?-- running out of the hotel. She was a mess, her eye was starting to blacken, and the caption indicates that she'd been seen coming from Lance's room.

Lance looks up at JC, his eyes huge and uncomprehending. "B- but, I never. I couldn't."

JC sits down next to his distraught friend. "I know."

"Josh, I don't feel so good."

JC looks at Lance and notices he's turned a particularly unhealthy shade of green. He half carries the boy to the bathroom, and holds him while he vomits, pushing his hair back from his hot face. When he's done, JC hands him a cool washcloth. They sit on the tile floor for a while, looking at each other, fear in Lance's eyes, compassion in JC's.

"Okay, tell me what happened."

Lance's voice is gravelly as he speaks. "All I remember is that we went to that Teen People party last night. And I drank a LOT. And I think I danced. And there was some girl. And then I woke up here. And now that picture. What is going on, C?"

"I don't know, Lance. I know you didn't bring that girl back here, because I brought you back here. Alone. And I know you didn't hurt that girl because . . . because I know you."

"What does the article say? It says I hit her? I've never hit anyone in my life, let alone a girl. I don't even know her. I don't think. Shit, I don't remember anything." He brings his hands to head and draws his knees to his chest. Just then, there's a pounding at the door.

"Lance? Open up! It's Joey! Justin and Chris are with me. C'mon, Lance."

"Lance, I KNOW you didn't hit her. We'll figure this out." JC gives Lance's shoulder a friendly squeeze. "I'll go let them in. Don't come out till you're ready. Take your time."

When JC gets up to answer the door, Lance throws his head back against the wall and stares at the ceiling. What happened? He knows he didn't do anything to that girl. Or did he?

"Where is he?"

"Lou is so pissed. It'll take a miracle to get us out of this."

"I guess our boy's grown up."

"That's not funny, Joey."

Lance hears all of this through the bathroom door and finally pulls himself up, using the doorknob for balance. He goes to the sink and splashes some cold water on his face; his reflection startles him. This is the first time he's seen what he looks like since he woke up. His hair is sticking up in places it doesn't normally stick up, his skin is ashen, and his normally pale green eyes are bloodshot. He leans against the sink, counts to five and then opens the bathroom door.

"I'm here. I have no idea what happened. But I did NOT hit anyone."

"Hit? They're saying you raped her," Chris exploded.

Lance feels as though he himself had just been slapped. "What? Raped? Chris, I never touched her. JC said he brought me back here and I woke up just a little while ago. That girl was here . . . not HERE," he gestures to the bed, "but in the hotel." Lance puts a hand to his eyes. He suddenly realizes that he's not wearing anything but his underwear, so he searches mindlessly for something to throw on. Seeing his duffle bag in the corner, he rummages until he finds a pair of jeans, talking all the while. "I didn't sleep with her. I didn't hit her. I didn't do any of those things."

"Lance," Chris says calmly, "she's 16."

Lance sinks onto the mattress. So it wouldn't even matter if the sex was consensual. Tears begin to well in his eyes and he fights to keep his voice steady. His head is pounding, his mouth feels like a thousand cotton balls have been stuffed into it, and he wishes he would wake up and find out this was all a nightmare.

"I...didn't . . . touch . . . her. I'm a fucking virgin, Chris. You know that."

Justin cuts in. "Lance, we know that. But maybe . . . I mean, you were pretty drunk. And there are pictures of you dancing with that girl. Could she maybe have followed you back here and you let her in and . . . you know, things just happen. We all do stupid things."

Lance's face grows red with all the emotion building up. "I didn't touch her!"

"Guys," JC cuts in. "Enough accusations. I have a feeling Lance is gonna get plenty of that from other sources. But this is our brother, remember? We're supposed to be on his side." He takes a deep breath, goes over and sits by Lance, quite literally and quite deliberately taking his side. "If Lance says he didn't do this, he didn't."

"Yeah, we know that," Joey says, biting his nails. His face belies his words. "I mean, we want to believe it."

Chris pipes in: "Okay, here's the deal: Lou said the girl is claiming that Lance called her up and told her to come to his room. She said they had sex, but then Lance told her to leave. When she wouldn't, he hit her, and then threw her out. There's some guy claiming he saw her this morning outside your door, and that you were there too."

Lance shakes his head, "But I just heard her knocking and screaming. I went outside to see--."

"Wait a second," Chris cuts in. "She said you called her. How? Do you have her number?"

"No, no I don't. I don't even know her name."

"Heaven," Chris answers, as he begins to look around the room. The others follow realizing what Chris is looking for. Joey grabs Lance's jacket from the back of a chair and sticks his hands in the pockets. He pulls out a slip of paper. "Bingo." He's not smiling.

Lance grows even more pale. He grabs the scrap and studies it. "I don't even remember asking for this."

"Figures," Justin spits. "You were wasted, dude."

JC puts out his hand for the paper and addresses Joey, Justin, and Chris. "If he used it, why was it back in his pocket? Wouldn't he have left it by the phone? I brought Lance back here last night, guys. He wouldn't have had the manual dexterity to get that paper out of and back into his pocket, never mind dial the phone."

At first, Lance glares at JC, but his expression softens when he realizes his friend is just trying to defend him. He's about to speak, when the phone rings. His eyes grow wide at the sound, but when he looks up he sees that all eyes are on him. Slowly, he reaches for the phone. "Hello?" The word is barely audible. "Hi Lou. Yeah, I know. Yeah, I KNOW. I didn't do it." His voice cracks and he can no longer hold back the tears. "I can't prove it. You just have to take my word." He hangs up the phone and turns his face away. "I gotta get out of here. I have to call my mom. I--shit." It comes in full force, hitting him like a tidal wave.

"Lance?" JC says gently, shooting a warning glance at the other three. "What did he say?"

"He said the press is going to be after all of us and that I shouldn't say anything. He's going to do what he can." He looks off to the side. "But that doesn't seem to be much right now." He grabs his bag, throws on the first shirt his hand touches, and begins to pack the rest of his clothes. "And it's obvious none of you believe me. I thought we were friends."

Joey rushes to his side. "We are, dude. But right now, we have to figure out what happened."

"I KNOW WHAT HAPPENED." His eyes narrow. "Obviously, you've already made up your minds. You think I would bring some . . . fan . . . up to my room and screw her? You think I would do something so stupid? You KNOW I don't do stuff like that." He hurries to the bathroom and sweeps the rest of his stuff in the bag.

"Lance, what happens to you affects the whole group," Chris says sternly.

"I know that! And that's why I'm gettin' out of here." He grabs his jacket, pulls a baseball cap over his head, and heads toward the door.

"Lance," JC says in a voice that quiets everyone. "I believe you. I haven't doubted you for a moment." He pauses to let his words sink it. "But if you go now, you're gonna LOOK guilty. What if the police want to talk to you? You need a lawyer, Lance. Come back, let me call Lou back, and we'll deal with this."

"You deal with it. I know I'm innocent." Lance pauses at the door and turns around. "Thanks, JC." He doesn't look at anyone else. If he says anything else he'll break down and lose the resolve to leave.

JC runs after Lance, catching him at the elevator. "Lance, if you have to do this, call me, okay? Let me know where you are and if you're okay. I'll do whatever I can to help on this end. I know you didn't do this. Any of it."

Lance can't speak. JC has always been one of the more sensitive guys in the group, and right now Lance feels like hugging him. He can't get any words out, so that's what he does. He nods his head, the tears starting to streak his face, and throws his arms around his friend. He hugs him as though he'll never see him again, and at this point he doesn't know if he will.

When the doors close, Lance wipes his face with his sleeve. Sorry, C, he thinks. I can't drag you into this.

JC watches the indicator lights until the elevator reaches the lobby. Then he goes back to Lance's room, which falls silent as he enters. "Great job, guys. Great job."

"JC," Chris says patiently, as if to a child. "even if he didn't do it, it still makes us all look bad."

"And that's Lance's fault how?" JC looks witheringly at Chris. "And there's no 'if' about it."

"You're so sure, JC?" Joey asks. "You're willing to risk our careers on it?"

"Joey, this is Lance we're talking about. The kid who puts spiders outside instead of killing them. He did not hurt anyone." JC sighs and looks at the three men he thought of as brothers. "You do what you want, believe what you want. I am gonna find a way to prove Lance's innocence."

***

Nick can't seem to put down the newspaper. Or should he say papers. The Daily News, Newsday, and his favorite--Page Six of the New York Post. Heaven, I ought to actually pay you for this. But I'm not, you bitch. His cell phone rings. Speak of the devil. "Nick, baby, I did what you asked. Can I come over now?"

"No, baby, you can't. It wouldn't look good if you were spotted coming over to MY hotel room now, would it? Lay low for a while, and I'll call you."

"But Nick--"

"Shut up! I'll call you. You do what I say, you hear?" Nick doesn't wait for her response; he hangs up and smiles. I'm fucking brilliant, he thinks.

Heaven stares at the phone. That creep! After what I did for him? But he's so cute . . . even if he did hit me. Nick, baby, you better come to your senses soon. She chews her lip. He's going to call back. He better call back. And if he doesn't . . .

***

A few thousand feet in the air, Lance closes his eyes. He realizes he hasn't had a shower in almost a day, and he hasn't eaten since the night before. It's a miracle he was even able to get on this flight.

He had called his mother on the way to the airport and told her everything. He hated telling her over the phone. He wanted so badly to see her and have her hold him and tell him everything would be okay. But he knew if he went home the house would be surrounded by press, and he couldn't do that to his parents. He also knew he couldn't go back to Orlando--everyone would be looking for him there too. So he decided to head up to the lake where his family used to spend summers; it was secluded and he could rent a cabin under the name he sometimes used to check into hotels. His mother was great. She didn't believe any of what the papers said and told him she'd stand by him no matter what. Just thinking about the conversation brings tears to Lance's eyes. He leans his head against the window and tries to sleep. In two hours he'd be someplace quiet, and he could just put this behind him for a while. But his mind keeps going back to last night; that girl, who is she and why is she doing this to him? And how could the guys believe her? Except for JC. Already, he misses him and wishes he could call him.

***

The next few days are difficult for JC. The other guys have gone back to Orlando, which is fine as far as he's concerned, and he spends most of his time with the attorney that Lou begrudgingly sent. They go over and over everything that JC can remember about the night of the party and the following morning. The police have been asking for Lance, but since the girl has not come forward, there's no evidence. And the phone number had turned out to be a long-disconnected one--which pleases JC no end as it proves Lance couldn't have called her. He misses Lance. Sometimes, he's angry at him for disappearing and leaving him to deal with this, but mostly JC misses his friend.

***

When Lance arrived at the cabin, he immediately made a beeline for the bedroom and slept for the next 12 hours. When he woke up the next day, he didn't want to move. He wanted to stay under the covers and never leave the bed. So that's what he did. For another hour. But then this voice in his head wouldn't leave him alone. Get up, you big jerk. Don't let them win. You know you're innocent; somehow, the truth will come out. It always does. You're a celebrity now--this is what you signed on for.

No, that's not true. I didn't sign on to be falsely accused of raping some stranger. I signed on to make music. That's all.

Is it? Is that all you really want? Come on, admit it. You LIKE the fame. You LIKE the lifestyle.

Okay, true enough. But sometimes, it gets to be too much.

So that's when Lance decides to leave the safety of his bed and do something to clear his mind. He realizes that he's now starting to reek and that small animals would soon be knocking on his door to complain. So he takes a long, hot shower, and after putting on some clean clothes decides to take a walk around the lake. He still hasn't eaten; there were some odds and ends in the kitchen but he knows eventually he'll have to head into town to pick up supplies. He has no idea how long he'll be here, but he has to eat sometime.

He feels better after the walk. The air is crisp, the lake quiet since it's off- season, and Lance is able to really think about things. Eventually, the guys would realize he had nothing to do with this girl. It's what they think that matters most to Lance. He doesn't care what the public thinks; it's his friends and family who matter most. At least JC is on his side. Damn, I shouldn't have left him hanging like that, Lance berates himself. I should call him. But what will I say?

*****

Heaven wanders into Starbuck's, needing to rest her feet. She had been to three auditions today; somehow the publicity from this little scandal is starting to pay off. Before, the casting directors would barely look at her. Now, she's the hot ticket. She's about to grab a seat when she sees a handsome, brown-haired, blue-eyed guy in the corner, poring over some papers. She does a double-take when she realizes it's that guy from 'N Sync. What's his name? Oh yeah, JC. Uh oh, not good. She starts to head for the door when he looks up and stares right at her.

JC practically forgets how to breathe. Here he's been searching for this girl-- he's called everyone he can think of who was at the party to see if they knew anything about her, but pretty blonde girls at a party like that go pretty much unnoticed unless they're also famous --and she appears right before his eyes. His first reaction is fury, but he sees the frightened expression in her eyes. He's been so busy demonizing this woman--this girl--and now, well, she looks sort of sweet. She actually reminds him a little of Lance, with her apple cheeks and her wide eyes. So, when he approaches her, standing frozen in her fear, he makes his voice gentle. "Heaven. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?"

Heaven is stunned and terrified and about a thousand other things. Confused is a big one. Nicky has been SUCH a jerk. Here she had sex with him and let him smack her around and risked getting in trouble for him, and he won't even see her. He's started not taking her calls most of the time. And here's JC, who has every reason to be angry with her and he's being so nice. She knows she's hurt him, his career, his reputation in hurting his friend. And she doesn't even like thinking about that. She'd actually liked Lance. He was cute, at least as cute as Nick, maybe even cuter. And he'd been so darned NICE to her. Even after he got drunk, he'd been a perfect gentleman. And when was the last time anyone had treated HER like a lady? She takes a sip of her coffee and looks up into the pleading blue eyes. Her own fill with tears before she looks down, and tracing a pattern on the table top with her coffee stirrer, she starts, haltingly, to tell him her story.

***

It's all over Access Hollywood, Entertainment Tonight, and the E! channel. Nick can barely contain himself. Well, my pretty, looks like game over. Soon, there won't be a magazine in the country that will print your picture.

***

JC is stunned. Nick Carter? Jealous of Lance? So jealous he'd destroy Lance and all of 'N Sync? They used to be FRIENDS, damn it. JC has never felt anger like this before, but he buries it so as not to frighten the girl away. "Heaven," he says softly. "Will you help me make things right?" At her nod, he practically leaps into action. His first call is to the attorney. He arranges for them to go see him immediately and demands that he find someone to represent Heaven, too. She's just a kid, after all. Most of all, he wishes he could call Lance, let him know everything's gonna be all right.

Once the ball is rolling, it gains speed and never stops. The attorneys and Lou hold a press conference at which time Heaven makes her statement. Reporters surround Nick and the rest of his band and it's soon discovered that Heaven is telling the truth. The story is run on every entertainment show, and everyone wonders where Lance is. There is no TV in the cabin, and Lance has turned off his cell phone, so he is unaware that his name has been cleared.

***

JC drives up the rough road toward the cabin, wishing the rental place had had an SUV available. Once he'd had time to think, he decided that this must be where Lance had gone. One other time when Lance was feeling overwhelmed, he'd told JC about this place, saying he'd like to disappear here. So once things were straightened out in New York, he'd headed here, armed with directions from Lance's parents. They hadn't heard from him either, since that first day, and they pray that Lance is all right.

JC approaches the cabin, his heart pounding. He knocks on the door and waits, knowing he could be wrong, and he could be facing a complete stranger. But it's not a stranger's face that peers around the door, and JC grins in relief and holds up the newspaper he's brought from New York.

Lance had been napping on the couch when he was awakened by the knock on the door. He'd been sleeping out here a lot, by the fireplace. Somehow, it feels safe out here. He rubs his eyes, confused. Who could that be? No one knows he's here except for his parents. Could they have driven up here to check on him? Part of him hopes so. He misses them so much. He shuffles to the door and opens it a crack, just to see. He's stunned when it's JC on the other side, smiling and holding up a newspaper. Lance opens the door a little further and looks around--JC is alone. "JC? What . . . what are you doing here? How did you find me?" He tries to keep his voice steady, but it's been days since he's seen any of his friends.

"I remembered you telling me about this place a long time ago. And your parents confirmed it for me. I came as soon as everything was fixed." JC pauses to take in Lance's appearance. He looks pale, and tired, and sad, and . . . wonderful. "You gonna invite me in, Lance?"

In spite of how confused he feels, Lance's innate manners kick in. "Um, sure, I'm sorry. Of course." He shakes his head to clear it and opens the door wider. He notices that JC has packed a small duffle bag. "Just throw your stuff anywhere. Can I get you anything?" He pauses. "I still can't believe you're here." His voice cracks and he can no longer hold back. He steps forward and throws his arms around his friend, hugging him tight. But just as quickly he pulls away. "I'm sorry. It's just that I never expected to see you here."

"I told you I was gonna straighten everything out. And I did, so I had to tell you. And I wanted to tell you in person. I hope that's okay. You seem kind of . . . uncomfortable with me being here."

Lance is standing by the couch and starts fidgeting with the upholstery. "No, um, I guess I just didn't expect anyone--I mean you--to show up here. If anything, I thought there'd be a mob outside with torches and rocks." He makes a weak attempt to smile, but it's not working.

"Do you want me to go, Lance?"

"No! Please don't go, JC. Please, sit down. Are you sure I can't get you anything? You must be hungry from the flight. I could make us something."

"No, I'm fine, Lance, really." JC sits and looks up at the jumpy boy in front of him. "Sit down yourself. I want to know how you're doing. And here . . . " He hands Lance the newspaper. "I want you to know how this all came down."

Lance hesitates before taking the paper. He can't bring himself to look at it. But finally, he lowers his eyes. What he sees doesn't register at first: "Bass Baited by Bitter Boy." It would have been funny if the headline hadn't been referring to him. So he reads the first sentence. And the next. And the next. And five minutes later, he puts down the paper and falls into a chair next to the couch. "I don't get it. How did you...you did all this?"

"I can't take a lot of credit for it. I got lucky. If Heaven hadn't just walked into Starbucks, I'd still be fighting. She's--she's not a bad kid, Lance. She's very young, and Nick was very persuasive. But she feels bad about hurting you."

"It wasn't her fault. She's as much a victim as I am. Maybe more, from what this article says. Man, I feel terrible for her. I should talk to her when we get back to--" Lance stops, unable to finish. Get back? Was there anything to get back to? He chews his nails. "JC, what am I supposed to do now?"

"Whatever you want to, Lance. Everything's there for you. Your life is waiting for you to come reclaim it. But it's up to you."

"What about everyone else? What do the rest of the guys think? Do they really believe this?" He indicates the newspaper. "I mean, you're the only one who believed me." He chews on his nail some more. "Why?"

"What can I tell you, Lance? They were scared. It's not even so much that they didn't believe you as that they were worried that the accusation itself was enough to ruin everything. It was wrong of them--and believe me, they've heard that from me, PLENTY, but it was also very human. And they do feel bad about it and they do want you to come back."

"I want to come back. But what happens if I do? Is everyone going to act differently around me? Are they going to trust me? Do YOU trust me, JC?"

"Of course I do. You KNOW I do. Nothing's changed. As for the other guys, I think you're just gonna have to see."

"I miss them, you know. I miss them so much. I just want things to go back to the way they were."

"Maybe they can. You'll never know unless you try."

"I'm scared."

"I'll be there with you."

Lance looks up. "You will? Man, I still can't believe you came all the way out here. And I'm still not sure I understand why. You could have just called. Oh, I have the phone turned off, don't I."

"Yeah, you did, Lance. Very uncharacteristic, may I add." JC smiles. "I came because I needed to see how you were doing. And because I wanted to bring you the good news in person."

"And I can't thank you enough for that." Lance forces a smile and runs a hand through his hair, choking back the lump in his throat. "It really means a lot that you did that."

"I had to, Lance. I couldn't let people believe that awful lie about you."

Lance sits quietly for a few minutes, absorbing JC's words. He believes in me. "JC, can I tell you something? You know what hurt the most about this? Besides having the guys look at me the way they did? Besides having the press jump all over this? Besides having Nick do this to me, which I still don't understand--I always thought he was okay. The thing that bothers me so much is . . . it's gonna sound so trivial . . . but you know I'm a virgin. And that's important to me. It's not like I advertise it, but the idea that everyone thought I would just bring some girl up to my hotel room-- someone I don't even know--and screw her like that. It's not like I'm saving myself for marriage, because let's face it: I can't wait that long." He laughs, nervous about what he's revealing. "But I always knew my first time would be with someone special. Someone I care about." Without realizing what he's doing, he stares directly at JC.

JC wonders if he's seeing things that aren't there. The intensity in Lance's eyes, the directness of his stare. He's not sure how to respond. If it's just wishful thinking and he answers the way he'd like to, he could freak Lance out--just what he needs at this point. So he simply says, "Someone special?"

"Yeah. You know, someone you care about. Someone who cares about you. Someone you didn't even realize you cared about so much. Maybe you take for granted that they're there. And you don't think about it until . . . I don't even know what I'm saying." He shakes his head again, smiling, and his leg starts bouncing nervously.

"Do I make you nervous, Lance? Was I, um, wrong to come here?"

Lance starts. "Gosh, no! I'm so glad you came. I mean, it's nice to have someone to talk to. I don't really like being alone. I was starting to talk to Eddie over there." He indicates the ceramic bear on the mantle.

"Okay, you just seemed kinda, I don't know, jumpy all of a sudden."

"I guess . . . I dunno, it's all so overwhelming. I owe you, JC. I owe you big time. I don't know how I'll ever repay you for what you've done. You have no idea what this means to me." And indeed, he didn't. When he opened the door and saw JC, his heart leapt. He was starting to realize how much he'd been denying it, how much his friend meant to him. And it was different from the way he felt about the others.

"You don't owe me anything, Lance. You would have done the same for me. That's who we are."

"Yeah, but you're the only one who came, JC. You're the only one who believed me from the beginning, like there was never any doubt. You never ONCE questioned whether what Heaven said was true. You just KNEW it wasn't."

"When you're in love with someone, you know what they're capable of." JC turns white when he realizes what he's said. His voice almost a whisper, he adds, "I'm so sorry, Lance. I didn't mean to throw that at you while you're dealing with all of this." He jumps up to tend the dying fire, which suddenly seems like terribly important thing to be doing.

There was probably only one other time in his life that Lance was shocked into silence: when he got the phone call that brought him to Orlando that fateful day. He watches JC, stunned, as his friend pokes at the charred wood and fumbles with another log. "Y-you're in love . . . with me?" He's almost afraid to hear the answer, because what if he heard wrong? What if he's assuming the wrong thing?

"I, um, I . . . " What does he do, JC wonders, lie? Say no and risk ending something potentially great before it even begins? Or tell the truth, and risk losing his best friend. He owes Lance the truth, no matter what. He slowly turns from the fire and looks straight into Lance's eyes. "Yes."

"JC," Lance's voice cracks once again. He stands and reaches for JC's hand, leading him back to the couch. "I...wow," suddenly he has no idea what to say. He continues to hold JC's hand as they sit, and he studies the long, slender fingers as if for the first time. "We've been friends for a while now. And I've always thought you were pretty special. But now . . . after what you did . . . I guess I never realized how I really felt until now. Maybe I was just denying it because, well, let's face it--if I came out and said that I think I'm in love with you that would be the end of 'N Sync." He still doesn't meet JC's eyes. "And yes, I just said that I love you too. Maybe that's why I never dated anyone seriously. Maybe that's why all the girls we meet just don't do it for me. Because you were always there--you were the one I couldn't stop thinking about, even when I didn't realize I was doing it."

JC is speechless, but he squeezes the hand holding his. Finally, he manages, "It doesn't have to be the end of anything. But it could be the beginning . . . "

Lance smiles, a genuine smile, for the first time since this whole thing started. Suddenly, he feels nervous, like the first time he asked a girl out. His hand starts to sweat. "It could?"

"Yes." JC leans forward and, very lightly, very gently, presses his lips to Lance's. It's over almost before it begins, their first kiss, but neither seems to mind. They sit back, smiling at one another foolishly.

"Did we just do what I think we did?" Lance bites his lip, blushing.

"Yeah." JC brushes Lance's hair, soft now from a few days without gel, back from his forehead, then lets his hand rest against Lance's cheek.

"It was nice. Can we do it again?"

"I think that can be arranged." JC leans forward again and brings his other hand to Lance's face, lifting it toward his own. He takes Lance's lower lip, the lip Lance had just been biting, between his own, just grazing it with his own teeth, then licking it tenderly. He then does the same with the upper lip, before closing his mouth over both.

Lance responds by moving closer to JC and bringing his hands to his friend's waist. JC's eyelashes tickle his cheek as they kiss; Lance never wants this moment to end. But before it can go further, he puts a hand on JC's chest and pushes gently. "Wow," he whispers, breathless, leaning his forehead against JC's. "This is . . . too good to be true. I can't believe we've felt this way about each other. I never thought I'd feel this way about another guy. Until you." He licks his lips, wanting to taste JC again. "But I think . . . I think we need to take this slow. This . . . YOU . . . are really important to me." It's only now that he can meet JC's eyes.

"Slow is good. Slow works for me. Especially if slow means I can kiss you like that for hours and hours."

"I'd have to kick you out if you didn't. You think you get to stay here for free?" When JC smiles, Lance covers his lips with his own, needing to taste his smile and all the emotion behind it.

JC decides that kissing someone--no, kissing LANCE--while they're both smiling is the sexiest moment of his life. Smoldering's all very well in its place, but there is something so exhilarating about just being HAPPY with someone. Especially since only a day or two before, he hadn't been sure that either of them would ever be happy again.

It's as though it's his first kiss. Lance has NEVER felt this exhilarated before. He finds his hands slipping around JC's waist and suddenly pulls away. His face is flushed when he says, "I'm sorry. I don't want you to think I don't want to do this, because I do. Man, do I. But maybe we should take a break and, I dunno, I could make you dinner and we could talk and stuff?"

"Yeah, sure. But do one thing first, okay? Call your parents. They're really worried. Your dad was ready to come up here when I called them. They really need to hear from you."

"Oh, shit, yeah--I totally forgot. I guess I was a little distracted." He winks at JC as he goes to retrieve his phone from the bedroom, instructing JC to make himself more comfortable. He calls his mother while he putters around in the small kitchen, pulling out steaks from the freezer and taking out assorted salad items from the refrigerator. His parents had already heard the news and just wanted reassurance that Lance was okay. He promised to visit them before heading back to Orlando.

After calling his parents, Lance figures he might as well check his messages and call the guys. There are dozens of messages, most of which he skips over--various journalists, Lou, Johnny-- but there's one he feels he has to listen to. It's Howie Dorough calling to say how sorry he is about everything Nick did and that he hoped Lance was okay. Lance sits down and blinks back the tears. He always liked Howie the best out of all the guys in Backstreet. Howie is kind and generous and down to earth. He makes a mental note to call him when he gets home. But once again Lance is reminded of how much he'd still have to deal with now that he was cleared of all accusations. Rather than put it off any longer, he calls Joey, Chris, and Justin. They all say pretty much the same thing: how sorry they are, how they should never have doubted him, and how much they want him to come back. This time, he can't stop the tears. He hangs up the phone and puts his face in his hands, hoping JC won't hear.

JC had only intended to walk into the kitchen to ask if Lance needed a hand, but when he sees Lance, he just walks over and wraps his arms as tightly as possible around the sobbing boy. He makes comforting sounds--"It's okay, Lance, let it out. I'm here."-- but he can't help mentally cursing the person-- no, the people--who did this to Lance, since the lack of belief in him hurt Lance every bit as much as the false accusations. Lance throws his arms around JC, so relieved to finally have someone to hold. He had never felt so alone than during the past few days. He never wants to let go. It just hits him all at once: It's over and people still love him. Finally, when the tears stop falling, still holding JC, he laughs into his shoulder. "I just got your shirt all wet."

"It'll dry, baby. It'll dry." JC is laughing too. "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah," Lance says, reluctantly releasing his friend and wiping his eyes. "I feel much better, thanks. I just didn't want you to see me being a big cry baby."

"I don't think that, Lance. You've had a LOT of pressure on you and I'll bet this is the first time you've let yourself let go." JC gives Lance's shoulder a squeeze. "You don't have to hide with me, Lance."

Lance pulls JC into a hug once again. "Thanks, JC. Thanks for . . . everything." He rubs his back tenderly. "Now, this time I think I better get dinner started. And no more phone calls." He smiles and resumes his food preparation.

An hour later, they're seated on the floor of the main room by the fireplace, eating steak and salad, sharing a bottle of cheap wine that Lance managed to dig out of one of the cabinets. They talk about everything: the scandal, what will happen next, their upcoming appearances, life in general. Lance finds himself talking nervously about anything. This isn't a date, Bass, he berates himself. It's JC. Your friend. You know him.

Yeah, but he's more than a friend now, isn't he? And damn, he looks good in the firelight.

JC, for his part, can't believe how good it feels just to sit here and talk with Lance. They've always had this rapport, this camaraderie, and he's missed it. That's one of the things that had made him realize the strength of his feelings for Lance--when he saw how badly he missed him even after a few days. Unconsciously, he reaches out to play with Lance's fingers as he sips his wine.

Lance smiles shyly and looks down at his now empty plate. He pushes it aside and moves closer to JC, chuckling softly. "I feel like I'm on a first date."

"Yeah," JC agrees. "Weird, when we've know each other, like, forever."

"It feels that way, but at the same time, I feel like I'm getting to know you for the first time." He closes his eyes and kisses JC, softly, just barely touching his lips.

The kiss is gentle and delicious, sweetened by the wine they'd been sharing. JC resists the temptation to lean into the kiss, to deepen it and instead just enjoys it. He's still holding Lance's fingers, and he intertwines their hands.

Lance's heart races. He's not sure what to do at this point. This is brand-new territory; anything goes. So he does the one thing he knows how to do: He kisses JC again, only this time he allows his lips to linger, to really taste JC and experience the softness of his lips. Soon, Lance's lips part and he lets the tip of his tongue slip out and just lick JC's lips, very lightly. His hands move as if separate from his body to JC's face, tracing the curves of the man's cheeks with his fingertips, memorizing the contours.

Lance's explorations, at once tentative and bold, are a tremendous turn-on for JC, who uses the hand he's holding to draw Lance a little closer to him. The other hand slips around the boy's slim waist gathering him yet closer.

Feeling encouraged by JC's actions, Lance pushes his tongue a little further, letting it slip between JC's lips and into his mouth, along his teeth and then inside, grazing the roof of his mouth. He slides one hand up into JC's hair and becomes lost in the brown silky strands. His other hand pushes the dinner plates aside to afford them more room. They clatter along the floor, silverware scattering in front of the fireplace. Lance moves so that he is on his knees, and he begins to shift his weight, lowering JC to the floor. When he finds that he is laying on top of JC, he pulls back, flustered. "I'm sorry--I-I don't even know what I'm doing."

"For someone who doesn't know what he's doing, you're doing it very well." JC touches Lance's flushed cheek. "I think--well, I think we should stop. For now. We should sleep. You look tired. I know you said you've been sleeping a lot, but I'll bet you haven't been sleeping well"

Lance rolls off JC and onto his back. He lifts his arm to his forehead and gazes at the ceiling. "No, I haven't." He turns his head to face JC. "I'm sorry, C. I don't want you to think I don't want to . . . you know. I'm just a little scared."

"I know. And I am, too. I've never felt this way, and I don't want to mess things up. We've got time. Lots of time."

"Thanks, JC. For being so understanding." Lance rises and reaches a hand down to JC, pulling him to his feet. It suddenly hits him that they are alone in this cabin, with one bed. Lance has shared a room with JC before, but never in this way. He shuffles his feet, unsure of how to broach the subject of sleeping arrangements. "Um, you can, um . . . c'mon." He takes JC's hand and leads him to the small, comfortably furnished bedroom.

JC sees the reason for Lance's hesitancy. "Oh, I, um, could sleep on the couch if you'd feel more comfortable . . . "

Lance looks from the bed to the couch and back again. He scratches his head, treating this like it's the most important decision in the world. If he tells JC to sleep on the couch he might think Lance doesn't want to be with him. But if they share the bed, what will happen? Maybe it's what won't happen that worries Lance. Now that he has JC here, he's not sure he could bear to let him go. On the other hand, if they share the bed, JC might think Lance just wants to have sex with him. And Lance doesn't just want to have sex--he wants to make love. He's sure of it now. "Yeah, maybe that would be best. I mean, if you don't mind. I mean, it's not that I don't want to be with you, because I do--I really do. But everything is just happening so fast and I--"

JC puts a finger to Lance's lips."Shhh. It's okay."

Well, it's sort of okay. Well, maybe not. Okay, JC DID offer, but that doesn't mean he's not disappointed with the answer. It's not like he's gonna jump Lance, but the idea of sleeping next to him, maybe even holding him, has its appeals.

"You know what? On second thought, that couch is kind of lumpy. I spent three days on that couch and let me tell you, my back is paying the price. It's a big bed, JC. I think you'd be much more comfortable in here." To demonstrate, Lance sits on the edge of the bed and bounces as if testing the mattress.

JC put a hand on Lance's shoulder. "I'll be a perfect gentleman," he says solemnly.

That's what I'm afraid of, Lance says to himself. He covers JC's hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Thanks. Because my mama always warned me not to let strange men climb into my bed." He attempts a nervous smile and resists the urge to pull JC down and kiss him and tear his clothes off. So instead, he stands up and the two boys prepare for bed. Lance changes into pajama bottoms and a tee shirt, and crawls under the covers to wait for JC. It's just like when you share a hotel room, nothing more, he tells himself. But it is more. It's so much more.

JC retrieves his duffle and locates some loose drawstring pants and a t-shirt. He looks at Lance, lying so perfectly still in the bed, but practically quivering with nerves, JC can tell. He sighs. He's nervous himself. Maybe he should have slept on the couch. Neither of them really knows what he wants right now, and its making them both crazy. He climbs under the covers and settles his head on the pillow. Then he reaches over and simply takes Lance's hand in his, squeezing gently.

Lance rolls onto his side, holding the hand between them. JC Chasez is in my bed. Here. With me. I kissed him. I kissed JC. He tells himself these things over and over, but they still don't register. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. So he takes JC's arm and puts it around his shoulders and rests his head against JC's chest, feeling the heat through his shirt and hearing his quickened heartbeat. "Thanks, JC. For coming here . . . and for saving me."

"Aw, Lance," JC says, hugging Lance tightly. "I didn't save you. You didn't need to be saved. I just made sure everyone else knew it."

"Well, I don't care what you say--you're my hero." He yawns and snuggles closer, and closes his eyes as exhaustion finally overtakes him. "But there's still one thing I don't understand: Why does Nick hate me so much?"

"I don't know if anyone will ever understand that, Lance. He was consumed with jealousy. He thought you were taking attention away from him, and it became a sickness. Heaven said he let her come over once, and his place was like something you'd see in a movie about a stalker or a serial killer-- floor to ceiling pictures, one whole wall devoted to just clippings about the scandal." JC pauses. "I never thought I'd use the word "lucky" about any of this, but I guess we were lucky he didn't decide to go after you physically. I-I might have lost you." Voice trembling slightly, JC hugs Lance closer.

"I'm not going anywhere. Not anymore." Lance slurs sleepily. "Why would anyone be jealous of me?" is the last thing out of his mouth, before sleep finally claims him.

"Why wouldn't they be?" JC replies, smiling. He pulls the covers up around Lance, then succumbs to sleep himself.

Sometime during the night, Lance rolls off JC and onto his back. His sleep goes undisturbed; all night he dreams of the man lying next to him.

*****

In a never before seen phenomenon, JC awakens first in the morning. He's lying on his side, facing Lance, one arm thrown across the boy's waist in an an almost protective gesture. He props himself up on his other arm and watches Lance sleep. It is, to him, a beautiful sight. The stress that was evident in his face yesterday is gone and Lance looks very peaceful, with one hand thrown over his head and his mouth slightly open.

JC is content simply to watch for a long time, memorizing every freckle. Finally, he just has to touch--he leans over and very gently kisses those barely parted lips.

In the dream, he's walking on a sunlit beach, alone. Up in the distance, a lone figure strides toward him, dressed in white. As he nears, Lance realizes the man is JC. Lance hold his arms out and runs toward him, and they embrace. Lance's eyes flutter open. It was a dream, only a dream. But when he feels JC's lips against his a wave of relief washes over him.

JC feels Lance awaken, even before he feels Lance's lashes move against his cheek. He pulls back, guiltily. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to wake you. You just looked so . . . kissable."

Lance blinks. Yes, JC is really here. "It's okay. It's better than okay." He yawns and stretches and reaches up to touch JC's face. "You're still here."

"Did you think I was gonna disappear?"

"Yeah. I thought maybe I had dreamed the whole thing."

JC gathers Lance to him. "Nope. This is real."

"Good. Because you look too damned good in the morning to be a dream."

JC grins. "I love you, too."

Lance blushes. "I could get used to this."

"I sure hope so, because I intend to tell you a LOT."

Lance raises his knees and fingers the neckline of JC's shirt. "Just . . . tell me?"

JC squirms just a little. Does Lance have any idea of the effect the slightest touch of his has on JC? "No, um, show you, too. When you're ready."

"What if . . . I said I was ready."

"Don't get me wrong, I don't want to discourage you, but, since last night? Are you sure?"

"Last night I said I was waiting for someone special. Well, I think he's here."

JC tightens his embrace. "Lance, if you're sure, then nothing would make me happier."

"I'm sure. There's no one else I'd rather share this with." Lance shifts in JC's arms so he can see his face. "I've never felt this way about anyone. I guess I've felt this way for a while and just didn't want to face it."

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean." JC touches Lance's hair, his cheek, his lips, before guiding those lips to his own, just barely brushing them together. "I didn't understand what I was feeling, but now it's so clear."

"It is?" Lance gets his answer when his lips meet JC's. "Oh, it is." He pulls the man closer and parts his lips with his tongue.

JC's mouth opens to welcome Lance's tongue. He meets it with his own, his hands cupping Lance's face and pulling him closer.

While Lance's tongue explores the hot recesses of JC's mouth, he wraps his arms around JC's back, lifting his shirt and touching the warm skin underneath.

JC pulls back from their kiss, breathless. He lets his mouth move over Lance's face, and down to his neck, licking the adam's apple and kissing the soft flesh around it.

Lance's breath catches in his throat as JC's lips touch that sensitive spot on his neck. He runs his nails lightly along the smooth skin of JC's back, pulling his shirt up even higher. His hands travel back under the shirt to the tight planes of JC's chest. He's seen that chest hundreds of times but this is first time he's ever touched it in this way. And it feels wonderful.

JC pulls away from Lance long enough to remove his shirt and toss it on the floor. He touches the hem of Lance's shirt and looks questioningly at him.

Lance gazes down at the hand on his shirt and bites his lip. His heart races as he looks into JC's eyes, seeing nothing but love and concern, and nods his head. JC pulls Lance up to a sitting position so he can remove Lance's t- shirt. Then he lowers him back down, just holding him for a moment, giving him the chance to get over his shyness. When he feels Lance begin to relax, he claims Lance's mouth again, licking gently at his lips before slipping his tongue between them.

Lance's mouth closes over JC's, and their tongues meet and tangle as Lance's hands return once again to JC's chest. Unaware he's even doing it, his hands find JC's nipples and begin to play with them, using his thumb and forefinger to tease them to hard points.

JC loves that for all his shyness and lack of experience, Lance is not afraid to touch, to try things out. His hands stroke up and down the length of Lance's back as they continue to kiss.

Lance's lips soon travel to JC's cheek and over to his ear, while his hands continue to explore every inch of the muscular chest. He kisses the ear and nibbles lightly on his earlobe before running his tongue down the length of JC's jawline until his mouth reaches the sharply defined chin, which he takes in his mouth. Lance's body is aware of the hands on his back and he begins to sense his own arousal.

JC lets his hands slip around to Lance's chest, caressing the soft skin and the smooth muscles under it. His fingers locate the small nipples, and he caresses and gently squeezes them, and is rewarded by hearing Lance's breathing quicken.

He's never been touched this way before. Not by a girl, not by anyone. The sensation is indescribable. JC's fingers send shivers along his spine and he's careful not to bite his friend when he first feels the hands on his sensitive nipples. Instead, he licks along JC's chin and down to his neck, where he buries his face.

JC slides one hand up into Lance's hair, cradling his head where it's nestled against his neck. The other hand moves carefully down over Lance's stomach, teasing at his navel.

Lance giggles into JC's neck and flinches against his hand. "Sorry," he mumbles. "Ticklish." His own hand trails along JC's arm, kneading the tight biceps.

"Is anywhere else, um, ticklish," JC asks playfully, moving his hand lower.

"Oh my goodness, VERY ticklish," Lance giggles and blushes, as he realizes where JC's hand is moving.

JC slides his hand further downward to cup Lance' growing bulge, keeping his touch light.

Lance's eyes grow wide and he freezes for a moment, taking in the sensation, then relaxing into the touch. He places soft kisses in the space between JC's neck and shoulder, becoming more aroused with each kiss.

JC is aware of it all--the tensing and the relaxation. He recognizes the signal Lance is giving him and makes his hand more firm against Lance's hardness. He kisses Lance's hair and murmurs words of encouragement.

Lance presses against JC's hand. He never anticipated that it would feel so good to be touched this way. But then again, this is JC. JC could look at him from across a room and Lance would probably come in his shorts.

JC continues to caress Lance through his pajama bottoms, enjoying his reactions, the small sounds he makes. He lifts Lance's head away from his own neck and their lips meet again in a passionate kiss.

Lance squirms under JC's touch. He can feel the heat from JC's hand even through the fabric of his pajamas. He intensifies the kiss, thrusting his tongue into JC's mouth and bringing his hands to the older man's chest once again, needing to concentrate on something so he doesn't come right then and there.

JC hesitates--is he moving too fast? Lance's responses seem to indicate he's not. Then slips his hand inside the pajama bottoms, wrapping his hand around the silky smoothness of Lance's erection.

Lance pulls back from the kiss and gasps, closing his eyes. "Josh," he moans.

JC smiles, loving Lance's reactions. He rolls the boy onto his back and kisses his way over Lance's chin and along the smooth column of his throat, pausing to pay extra attention to his sensitive adam's apple. His hand begins to move, slowly and gently, stroking Lance's hot stiffness.

His eyes focus on the ceiling above but his senses are tuned only to the man lying on top of him. Lance bites his lip as his erection becomes harder with each stroke of JC's hand. Little gasps of pleasure escape his lips, and he blushes at the sounds coming from his throat. Am I too loud, he wonders? Is JC getting turned off? Am I big enough for him?

JC can feel Lance getting even harder under his hand, but he also feels him tense up. He pulls himself away from the delicious taste of Lance's throat and looks down into the huge green eyes, concerned. "What's wrong, baby? Am I going to fast for you? Talk to me." His hand still grips Lance's erection, but he's stopped moving, waiting for Lance.

Lance puts his hands on JC's arms. "No! Gosh, no. This feels SO great." He smiles shyly and looks down at the hand inside his pants. "Am I . . ., " he begins, rolling his eyes. "I just don't want you to be disappointed."

"Disappointed? In you? Lance, what are you talking about?"

"You know. Compared to . . . ." He gazes down once again, trying not to fidget under JC's touch.

JC is still confused. "Compared to? Oh!" JC kisses Lance lightly, giving the appendage in question a little squeeze. "How do I say this--hell, you're gonna blush no matter what I say--you, um, don't have anything to worry about in that department. At all."

Lance smiles, knowing his face is as red as JC anticipated. "Good . . . because I want this to be as good for you as it is for me." To emphasize this point, Lance places his hand in JC's hair and pulls him down for another kiss, this time letting his lips linger.

Lance's little insecurities make him all the more lovable to JC. He tries to put all that he is feeling into the kiss, and his hand begins moving gently again.

Every minute he's with JC, Lance reminds himself how glad he is that he waited for this. Because there's no one Lance would rather be with than his best friend, and Lance marvels at how sweet and gentle JC is. This encourages Lance even more, and he finds his hands traveling down JC's back and inside his pants, over the firm, tight muscles of his butt.

Lance keeps surprising JC--one moment hesitant, the next bold. It's a completely enticing, completely charming combination. This time when he moves out of their kiss, JC licks and kisses his way down to Lance's smooth chest. He can feel and hear Lance's quickened heartbeat as he circles one nipple before taking it in his mouth.

Each time JC kisses Lance he experiences something new. And now, with JC's lips against his chest, Lance can barely contain himself. He tries to keep still, but with the multiple sensations he's experiencing it's all Lance can do not to squirm. He raises his knees, trapping JC between them.

JC moves to Lance's other nipple, teasing it to a tight peak as he had the first. He gives it a final kiss, sits up and shifts so he's not between Lance's legs anymore. He hooks both hands into the waistband of Lance's pajama bottoms, then freezes when Lance tenses. "Okay?" he asks, his voice husky with desire.

Lance places his hands on top of JC's and considers the seriousness of what they are about to do. Each step of the way, JC has made sure Lance was ready. He nods, never taking his eyes off the older man.

JC strips the pants off, and his gaze moves past admiring into the range of adoring. "You're beautiful," he breathes, stretching out again next to Lance. He lays a finger on the boy's lips, stifling the protest before he can voice it. "Yes," JC whispers as he replaces his finger with his lips.

Lance's words are lost in the kiss. He uses his hands in the way JC just had moments before to distract him from his naked state. They glide along the tight skin of JC's neck, down to the prominent collarbone, seeking out and finding the small, erect nipples. Lance uses his thumbs to trace lazy circles around them, and soon his hands are traveling lower, to JC's navel and the soft spot below, until they boldly slip inside the elastic of his pajama bottoms, finally finding the hard erection beneath. Lance touches it gingerly, learning every inch of the hot member.

JC is completely aroused by that tentative touch, and he groans into Lance's mouth. His own hand returns to Lance's hardness, and he imitates the motion of Lance's hand on his heated stiffness.

Lance's knee jerks in reaction to JC's ministrations. He grips JC's erection in one hand and begins stroking it, taking its length in his palm, while thrusting his own hardness into JC's hand.

JC lets his head drop to Lance's shoulder, trying to catch his breath. For someone who's not supposed to know what he's doing, Lance is certainly managing to do all the right things. Or maybe it it's just that it is Lance. Either way, JC is more aroused than he's ever been in his life. "Lance," he groans, pressing himself hard against his boy.

Lance kisses JC's head, taking in the scent of his hair and becoming more excited. "Josh," he whispers, "I want you so badly."

Does Lance have any idea what his words, his voice can do to JC? "I'm yours, baby," he rasps.

Lance brings JC's face to his own and leans his forehead against his lover's. "I love you, Josh. I probably shouldn't be saying this now, but I do." His voice trembles even as the words pour out of his mouth.

"I love you too, baby. And you can say that any time you want." JC pauses, unsure again about how far Lance is ready to go with this. But he's just so aroused--he has to know. "I-I want to make love to you, Lance. Is--would--can we do that?"

Lance's mouth curves into smile. Yes, he's scared, but he also knows that he meant what he said. And love means trust. "Heck yeah."

JC bursts into laughter and hugs Lance tightly. "Well, that's not exactly the response I was expecting, but it'll do."

Lance laughs too and he hugs JC back, relieved to break some of the tension. He's nervous enough, and JC's laughter always manages to put anyone and everyone at ease. He just has one of those faces. And it's one of the many things Lance loves about him. But just as quickly, Lance's face turns serious as he kisses JC's cheek tenderly, letting him know what they are about to do is no joke to Lance. "I want you to make love to me, Josh," he whispers into his ear.

"I, um, we, we need something to use as a lubricant. Can you think of anything? Lotion or something?"

"Oh, um . . . " This was something Lance hadn't anticipated. It's an awkward moment as he tries to think of something, but then he remembers the jar of Vaseline he saw in the medicine cabinet the other day. "Um, I think there's something in the bathroom we can use." He starts to move from the bed, but realizing he's completely naked and the first rays of light are starting to seep through the shades, reaches for his pajama bottoms and slips them on before stepping onto the floor. He looks at JC apologetically as he scurries to the bathroom and retrieves the jar of Vaseline.

JC smiles to himself. Lance is just so damned CUTE. When he comes back, he's still flushed and JC gathers Lance to him, letting him hide his face against JC's shoulder for a bit.

After a while, he tilts Lance's head up and looks seriously down into those jade eyes.

"I love you, Lance. I want you so much, but any time you feel uncomfortable, you just say so and we'll stop, okay?"

Lance brushes the tips of his fingers along JC's cheek. "I don't think you have to worry about that. There's no place I'd rather be right now than right here, with you." And he seals that statement with a kiss.

JC lets the kiss linger, sweetly, before deepening it, slipping his tongue between Lance's parted lips. As their tongues entwine, he feels the desire surge up in him again, and he lets his hands roam over Lance's torso again.

When JC's fingers touch him, Lance's whole body tingles. He relaxes back against the mattress and allows JC's hands to roam freely. His tongue, meanwhile, is busy exploring JC's mouth once again, and his kisses soon trail over his face, tasting every inch of the man he is falling more in love with as each second passes.

JC feels Lance's reactions and knows Lance is getting just as excited as he himself is. A quick brush over the front of Lance's pajama pants confirms this. JC kisses his way down Lance's throat to his chest and lingers over his nipples. With both hands, he strips Lance's pants off again, then trails one hand slowly up Lance's leg to caress his stiff member.

Lance's brow creases as he absorbs the pleasure of JC's gentle touch. Once again, he begins to move against the hand, creating such friction as he's never experienced before. His own hands are eager to try the same moves on JC, so he gradually brings his hands down to the elastic of JC's pants, and reaching inside, very tentatively begins stroking JC's own hot erection.

Lance's cool fingers on his hot flesh are intoxicating. JC moans against his boy's chest. It's all he can do not to just jump on Lance and take him then and there, but a few deep breaths bring him under control again. He lets his hand slide downward to fondle Lance's balls, then even lower to the sensitive flesh below.

Lance freezes; it's just for a second, but it happens and there's nothing he can do about it. But he focuses his eyes on JC's and wills himself to relax, opening his legs a little wider in an effort to reassure JC that this is what he truly wants.

JC keeps his movements slow and gentle, letting Lance get used to the sensations he's experiencing. He holds Lance's eyes with his, letting everything he's feeling show in them, till he actually feels tears well up.

Lance begins to panic when he sees the moisture in JC's eyes. Did he do something wrong? He brings his hands back to JC's face and cups it gently. "Josh, what's wrong? Did I do something?"

"No, baby. I'm just happy. I love you very much."

Lance's sigh of relief is almost audible. "I love you too, Josh. I'm just annoyed that it took me so long to figure out." He presses his lips against JC's and whispers, "I want this very much," and slides JC's pants off his hips, being careful of his erection, and down his legs.

The feeling of freedom after being constricted, the air on his skin, combines with everything else JC is feeling. When he pulls Lance to him this time, it's not gentle. He pulls his boy to him with all the passion he's feeling, crushing Lance to his chest, pressing their hips tightly together.

At first, Lance is shocked at the intensity of JC's actions, but he matches it with his own. He feels the heat rise in him at this most intimate contact-- naked skin on naked skin. As their hot members meet and touch, Lance feels a new thrill that sends electricity from his toes to his head. He kisses JC with a newfound passion.

As their tongues intertwine, JC runs his hands down Lance's back to clasp the firm globes of Lance's butt. He squeezes rhythmically, this time sensing no hesitancy, no tensing in Lance at the new touch. He allows one hand to slip between, rubbing lightly at the sensitive flesh there.

Lance moans into the kiss as he processes this new sensation. He's not afraid, merely curious. And excited. Very excited as his erection continues to rub against JC's. His heart pounds against JC's chest as he readies himself for the next move.

JC lets his fingers move deeper, caressing but not penetrating Lance's tight entrance. He reaches for the jar Lance had retrieved earlier, and scoops up some of the slick jelly on his fingers and when his hand returns to its former activity, he spreads the substance around a bit. He whispers a reassurance to Lance, then presses one finger gently inside him, pausing to wait for Lance's reaction.

At first, Lance flinches. He's never been touched this way and always thought it was somehow wrong. But not now. Now it feels more right than he could have imagined. He grips JC's arms tightly but doesn't stop him. Instead, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, nodding unconsciously.

JC, alert to every response, freezes until he feels Lance nod. Then he starts slowly working his finger in and out, getting more excited himself by being allowed this most intimate contact.

Little sounds of "mmmm" escape Lance's throat without his even being aware. His eyes are closed, his full concentration on the man who is doing things to him so pleasurable he can barely breathe. He finds himself moving along with the rhythm of JC's finger, wanting more, craving more.

Lance's response is more than JC could have asked for. He breathes Lance's name directly into his ear, his breath hot against Lance's neck, as he adds another finger, stretching his lover carefully.

This time, Lance lets out a small whimper--a cross between a quick flash of pain and newfound pleasure. The pain is momentary and it passes quickly, followed by an exquisite feeling of such intimate pleasure Lance has to fight back the cry welling up in his throat. He pulls JC closer to him, his palm flat against his lover's back, clenching and unclenching with each small thrust of JC's fingers.

JC slides his other hand between their pressed bodies and caresses Lance's erection in the same rhythm as his fingers are moving in and out of Lance. His own breath is coming in harsh gasps, so aroused is he becoming in exciting Lance.

Lance presses his hips against JC's, thrusting slowly, trying to control the urge to come before JC even has a chance. He bites his lip as JC's hand slides up and down his shaft, and he draws his knees up, writhing under JC's sensual touch.

JC can wait no longer. He pulls free of Lance, pushing him onto his back. He reaches for the jar again and slicks his own erection with the Vaseline, then he positions himself at Lance's entrance. He dips down to kiss Lance then pulls back to look into his eyes. "You tell me if I'm hurting you, promise? I love you."

Lance fixes JC's glistening blue eyes with his own smokey green ones. "I...want . . . you. Please?"

Those words in that voice are almost too much for JC. He looks down at Lance with eyes filled with love and slowly, carefully watching Lance's face for any sign of discomfort, begins pushing into him.

Lance grits his teeth, reminding himself that pleasure often comes at the price of a little pain. But JC is so gentle and so caring that Lance braces himself and pulls JC closer, letting him know how much he wants this by whispering in his ear. "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay . . . "

JC carefully pushes in a little further, urged on by Lance's whisper. Lance is just so hot, so tight, that JC wants to bury himself in him. But he holds back, because this isn't about his pleasure. It's about THEM being together.

Lance lets out a small cry, so overwhelmed by what he's feeling, by the fact that JC is making love to HIM. "Oh, Josh, oh," he repeats over and over, his fingers digging into JC's back, beads of sweat forming on his brow.

JC stops trying to push in further and instead starts moving in Lance, thrusting--although thrusting is almost too harsh a word--in and out gently. The friction is delicious--Lance is delicious. JC lifts himself up again to look down into Lance's face, to search those eyes for what he is feeling, thinking, experiencing.

Lance begins to push his hips up to meet JC's thrusts, learning the motions and hoping to give his lover as much pleasure as JC is giving him. His eyes are squeezed shut in concentration, and when he opens them he sees that JC is looking down at him, concern on his face. "This feels so good, JC. So good." And it's true. Once the initial pain has passed, Lance begins to relax. "More, JC. More, please, more," he moans. His own erection rubs against JC's tight stomach, and the pressure is so intense.

JC thrusts a little harder, a little deeper. "You're amazing, Lance. You feel incredible," JC whispers breathlessly, dropping his head again to kiss Lance's face--his cheeks, his perfect eyebrows, his temple. He snakes a hand between them to encircle Lance's erection once again.

Lance blushes at JC's words. Amazing, me? He feels so awkward, so young. This is all so new and wonderful. He just hopes that JC doesn't walk away from this regretting what he did. Lance arches his back when JC holds his throbbing member, knowing he can't hold on much longer, but wanting this to last. He groans against the thrusting inside him and the warm hand on his most sensitive organ. He tangles his fingers in JC's hair, now slick with his own sweat, cradling his head against his shoulder, rocking in time to JC's thrusts.

Lance's tender touches, combined with the instinctively sensual movements of his hips against JC's own thrusts are taking him to new heights. He has never felt this aroused before; he has never cared about another's pleasure so much before; he knows now that he's never been in love before.

Lance urges JC in even further, wanting him to experience whatever pleasure he's feeling and more. He gives himself over to JC, completely. "I'm yours, Josh," he murmurs. "I'm all yours." And now he knows he can't hold on any longer as the orgasm hits him full force and he cries out, louder than he thought he would, and the hot fluid shoots out onto JC's stomach as Lance clutches him tightly.

Lance's orgasm pounds through him, making his muscles clamp down tightly on JC's own erection, bringing him to his orgasm as well. But it's Lance's words, Lance's complete giving of himself, that stay with JC, that bring tears once again to his eyes, that have him whispering words of love, that have him breathing "Lance" as if it were more a prayer than a name.

JC slams his orgasm into Lance, and Lance arches his back as JC fills him not only physically but emotionally as well. Lance gazes at the ceiling, so consumed by love that he feels as if they are going to set the room on fire. He almost laughs then; never has he been this happy. Never could he have imagined he'd be sharing this precious moment with JC.

JC drops onto Lance's chest, spent. He tightens his arms around Lance, never wanting to let go, and listens to his still rapid heartbeat gradually slow. He's never felt closer to another person than he does right now. He just wants this moment to go on forever. Of course, he knows it can't, and he knows it doesn't matter. They're together. That's enough.

Lance strokes JC's hair, his body still trembling, slightly achy but incredibly happy. For a long while he can't speak; he's so overcome with emotions he can't think of anything worthy of breaking this peaceful silence. He kisses the top of JC's head, and rests his cheek in the soft, wet hair. Finally, he does speak. "That was . . . oh man, Josh, I can't believe we just did that. I can't believe you're here. I can't believe we never did this before." He laughs. "I can't believe how much I love you."

"Believe, baby. Believe."

"Good," Lance remarks, as JC's softened cock finally slips out and Lance looks at the sweat-soaked body on top of him, and at the mess on the bed sheets and the tangle of blankets around them. "Because I think there's some Chinese proverb that says if you deflower someone you're responsible for them."

JC laughs, feeling his laughter vibrate against the boy beneath him. "That's a new one on me." He rolls off onto his side, gathering Lance to him. "Not that I mind being responsible for you . . . "

Lance curls up against JC, the cool air against his sweaty skin starting to make him shiver. He puts a hand on JC's chest to absorb the warmth radiating from it. "Okay, but you asked for it. If Nick Carter was jealous before, he's gonna have two of us to deal with now."

"He always had two of us to deal with." JC pulls Lance closer and pulls the covers up around them. Even with the added warmth, he shudders, thinking how Nick had almost succeeded.

"I'll just never understand what pushed him over the edge. It's not like any of us ask for this fame; it's not like he's not just as famous and popular as us."

"I know. It doesn't make sense. And why you? I mean, obviously I agree that you're the cutest of them all," JC kisses Lance's hair, "but Justin is even more popular, and he's more like Nick's counterpart--the cute one, the baby...."

"Oh?" Lance gazes up at his friend playfully. "So what does that make me? Let's see, Joey's the flirt, Chris is the crazy one, Justin is the cute baby, you're the strong, sensitive one . . . "

"Until this morning, 'the virginal one'," JC replies, grinning. "But I guess I took care of that."

Lance's cheeks turn red at the memory of what just took place. "You certainly did, Josh." Then it hits him: He's not a virgin anymore. He can never go back. Not that he wants to. No, this is just the beginning, as JC said earlier. He rests his head against JC's chest, now warm from the blankets and body heat, perfectly content. "I guess no one can accuse me of being Snow White anymore."

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