River wanted to see kink, but settled for quoting "Flowered drinks and low-cut dress/ That's the way I know her best..."


I won't cry, no I won't shed a tear


There was no moon the night that Justin kissed Lance the first time.

He'd had about four girly drinks, cocktails with little umbrellas in them and crushed ice, and they smelled like fruit and Justin hadn't had any idea how to kiss anyone really, and Lance seemed to know, and that was it, Justin was lost. For two whole weeks.

Things being the way they were, that Christmas party was the only time they kissed for probably, a whole year.

It was right around the time that Justin was getting all the solos and they were trying to hide it, that he kissed Lance again. Britney and him had dropped by on one of Lance's house parties in Mississippi, because Lance threw the best parties - sometimes they lasted more than two days, if he tried hard - and they were never really really rowdy, but they were fun, and Justin missed fun.

Britney had caught them, and pursed her lips sadly, and then found herself a nice dry Martini with an olive to suck down. She didn't like Vodka, but she didn't like finding Justin with someone else before he told her, either, and the martini was sliding down nice and cool.

Britney never had girly drinks. People bought them for her all the time, and she never drank them, because no one ever offered to get her a beer, or tequila shots - just pina coladas, and things with fruit in them.

She'd closed the door tight, firmly, and said, "Lance, could I please speak to Justin?" and Lance had gone.

Later, Justin realized that he'd wanted Lance to stay.


Joey was throwing the Christmas party this year, because New York was done up for the holidays and it was his turn for the get-together. Only Joey's version of Christmas was loud and bouncing and full of red wine, so Chris's head was starting to hurt a little bit and all he wanted was to find somewhere to sit the hell down.

He found Justin and Lance kissing gently in one of Joey's mom's storage rooms, down in the basement where Chris and Lance were supposedly sleeping for the night. Chris gulped, and shut the door, but Justin followed him out.

"Chris, uh. So."

Chris shrugged. "I'm not gonna say anything, because it ain't my business."

"We're - I mean, I'm not lying to you," and that was Justin's brilliant conversational skills exhausted, so Chris grinned at him, and Justin went back in the room, and Chris took it as a sign that Justin didn't know what was going on, either.

Which Chris could swallow a lot easier, because him and Justin stood by each other. He leaned against the wall, outside, for a little bit, making sure no one else would walk in on them, and had a smoke.


It wasn't that Lance didn't want to talk about what Justin did and didn't want with him; it was just, it never really, came up, and Lance was okay with that, even if he shouldn't have been.

For Christmas, Lance found him something really good, and Justin got him something really good, but they didn't... dwell, on anything, because Lance got Joey something and Justin got something for Chris and JC too. Friends were friends, and they were friends, and then they were, this.

Lance unwrapped the box, and smiled at the sweater. "I really like it."

Justin nodded. "Good."

They were at Joey's, sitting around in the kitchen on Christmas Eve, because they were going to go home for Christmas day. Joey was making hot chocolate with amaretto, and Chris was asleep in the hard-backed chair. JC said, "The neck's low cut - it suits you, Lance," and then all Lance could think about was the way Justin wore his pants, slung loose on his hips.


Justin kissed Lance goodbye, from Joey's house, right before they got into separate taxis to the airport. Lance said, "I'll call y'all," and drove off.

Chris slung an arm around Justin's shoulder, and asked, "You okay, sport?"

Justin frowned. "I dunno."

Chris stuffed them into their taxi. "The holiday season always throws you off."

Justin was aware, had always been aware, that the way he knew Lance was not the way he knew Chris - so intimately that you really didn't have to talk - or even like JC, which went back and had roots. It was totally different, and he knew Lance's walk better than he did his smile. It was snowing as they drove through New York, and Justin put his head on Chris's shoulder; thought maybe, about having some wine on the plane and calling Mississippi.