Disclaimer: Fiction-ous; no libel or slander intended regarding real people. Thanks: to Shana, Kael, Mel, Cathy, Ins, and all the other people who gave me fake email addresses and IM names. None of those were my idea. Also, thanks to Silvia and machjwai, and others for links, and many many people for the in-jokes. The funniest parts were someone else's idea. Also, thank you k for everything, and especially the end. Title: Sheila's, because I was close to just calling it "Lance! discovers! slash!"



the novels I've read, the songs in my head


Howie introduced Lance to Katherine Heigel at a movie premiere in New York. Lance was suitably impressed -- not only had Howie seemed to have brought a girl as his date, for once, but the girl was stunning; sexy in a womanly, not model-like, way.

Lance said to Howie, while she was talking to Joshua Jackson, "She's gorgeous, Howie. Where'd you find her?"

Howie smiled at him, and his teeth were shining and his happiness kind of oozed out, infecting the surrounding air like a virus. Lance leaned slightly away. Howie said, "Oh, she's on the show 'Roswell'. You know, it's all about--"

Lance cut him off, because anyone who knew Howie knew he was, still, a huge fan boy. Lance said, "Yeah, I know the show. But man, why're you here with her? Isn't she a little--"

Lance cut himself off at 'female' as someone passed them. Howie nodded, emphasizing his point with a pretty smile. "But I'm such a fan of her work, and she's Isabel, and -- I just. Isn't she amazing?"

Lance thought she kind of was, and said so politely, leaving off the 'kind of' part. He added, "Is she a fan of the group?"

Howie grinned. "She says she enjoys some songs, but not all of them. It's so cool, I mean, the show is so amazing, and here I am taking Katherine Heigel out! I can't believe it."

Lance answered without thinking, "It is pretty amazing. The show's good. I should watch it more often, get into it."

It was meant as polite conversation, small talk, but Howie jumped on it. "Oh, I'll totally help you."

Katherine was coming back from the washroom, and Lance agreed, mostly to get Howie to change the subject. Lance flirted with Katherine a little, who was delightful, truly, and Lance wished he could take her out some time too. Sometimes being gay in Hollywood kind of sucked, when you only really hung out with the likes of Howie -- who was totally nice and all, but no.

Lance excused himself, and forgot all about it.


Howie emailed him about a week later, with a list of basic websites, episode transcripts, info, the like. Crashdown.com was the only one Lance browsed before he got bored, and shut it down. He emailed Howie back, to be polite, thanking him, and got another list of websites in return -- as well as a promise of UPS overnight delivery of tapes. Lance reminded himself not to email Howie again.

Joey signed for the boxes, when they arrived at the hotel the next day, and even put the first one in. Halfway through the first episode, no one but Justin was watching the show. The Toy Room at the venue rang out with music from hip new artists; the screen was full of pretty people; and Lance was laying on the couch, eyes closed, cringing at the writing.

Justin was getting really into it, but in a campy way. "No, Liz! Don't do it!"

There was a God, Lance knew. There was a God, and he was pissed off in some way, that was the only explanation. Lance also knew that in his inbox, Howie's latest ramble sat unopened. Justin threw popcorn at the screen. Lance sighed, and put a pillow over his face. It didn't work. He watched the show anyway.


A few weeks passed before Lance heard from Howie again. He was just getting out of the shower in his new Moscow hotel room, having gotten up at six, when Howie called him again. "Oh my god, did you hear?"

He hadn't been up nearly long enough to deal with raving psychos on the phone. "Howie, what?"

While Howie talked about the last episode of some stupid teenage show and how much he was going to miss it, Lance shaved, put track pants on, and started running on the treadmill in his room. Warm-ups, then some weight lifting, then the first day of training and testing. He couldn't wait.

"--and oh my god. I can barely believe it. Do you think Majandra will take my call?"

"Uh huh." One foot in front of another, Lance kept running.

"And!" Howie almost squealed. "That hug between Max and Michael was made for the slash audience, wasn't it? I mean, the undertones between the two of them were--"

"Uh huh." Pace, pace, pace, let the dork talk himself out.

"--just so overtly sexual and yet full of friendship, too--"

"Uh huh." Pace, pace. Wait. Sex? Lance stopped running, wiped his face with a towel. "Wait, sexual?"

Howie laughed. "Knew you'd start listening there. Yeah. Michael. Max. Sex. Didn't you see it?"

"Uh." Unless Lance had missed an episode -- and fucking Justin, over the last twelve shows of the tour, had made damned sure they hadn't -- he hadn't. "No?"

"It's called 'subtext'. Listen, I gotta go, but I'll show you what I mean. It'll be worth your while..."

Lance could picture his face, calculating and yet still cute. Everyone was taken in by thinking that Howie was just cute, and forgot that he was also hell. Lance sighed. "Fine, yeah, okay. I gotta--"

"Great! Email you later!" Howie hung up, and Lance started running again. Worth his while? Well, he did have a nice mouth, and he was flying home for a long weekend in ten days. Maybe Howie was gonna make good on showing him what 'sexual' was. It was better than nothing.


In his email, Howie called it 'slash'.

Since he had a lot of time to kill, even despite this being their first week of training, Lance kept clicking on all the links that Howie sent him. Fan sites, essays on characters, thoughts about episodes. And then, fanfiction.

He searched "fanfiction" on google and came up with roughly four hundred thousand hits.

"Wow." Lance sat back in his chair. "Well. What the fuck right?"


to: l. bass (lbass@mircorp.net)
from: howie (h_dorough@jiveent.net)

subject: you'll see what I mean.

Lance, wanted to give you those links. I promise, spend a half-hour and check this stuff out, then go and watch the eps again. especially "meet the dupes" and the last one again. because wouldn't you like to see max and michael doing it? (Max is the broody one, and Michael is the. okay. they're both broody. and hot.) try reading about sex instead of watching porn -- it's almost as good and they don't catch you. nick thinks I'm always reading reports. ;) !

the roswell slash archive. Good stuff. y'know. variety. this writer, Elizabeth. she's great. um. read lots of stuff. and guilty pleasures. has everything. read the m/m slash. that's male/male.

tell me what you think. it's so cool to have another friend who's into this! --D.

PS: something for the other guys: chicks doing it. no, not porn. more fanfiction, with girls. I dunno, maybe Justin'd dig it; does he still say he's not gay? --d.


to: howie (h_dorough@jiveent.net)
from: lance (lance_blasts_off@hotmail.com)

subject: re: you'll see what I mean.

don't use the mircorp address for your twisted little fantasies, D -- I almost got caught reading something. remember the convo where you said "let's all come out! it'll be like a gay revolution!" and JC said "um" and AJ laughed and chris was like, "well if you guys come out do I have to explain what I am" and then the rest of them got into an argument about what sexuality chris was and Justin was still pretending straight and I said, "not until after I get to Mir?"

yeah. fucker. anyway I don't have a lot of time but if you want to forward me any more stuff -- I saw that Elizabeth, whatever her name was had a lot of links to other stuff, pictures and other 'fandoms', is that what you call it -- I'd appreciate it. cosmonauts aren't living up to their education. but to this email address!! --lance.


to: l. b. (lance_blasts_off@hotmail.com)
from: firefly_apprentice@yahoo.com

subject: confession

okay, so this is the fifth email I'm sending you this week and AJ thinks we're like boyfriends or something. it might be easier than explaining gay porn online -- this is my writing address. cause I kinda. I've been reading for a while and have been sending feedback - like when you send the writer an email and say what you liked about the story- for a while. I tried to write but can't. I like to beta-read though.

lemme know if any of these fandom terms are going over your head and I'll get that online explanation of stuff, link, thing. y'know. god I'm tired. AJ made me do shit all day.

how's the testing going? looking good?


to: "howie" (firefly_apprentice@yahoo.com)
from: "lance" (lance_blasts_off@hotmail.com)

subject: re: confession

howie that email address is dorky. I'm getting the hang of this fandom thing. training and testing and shit only takes up most of my time and since the rest of the time all I'm doing is either drinking vodka with people I don't know and who don't like me or reading up on russian, I've had some time to keep up. man, never thought I'd miss touring but I can't *sleep*.

you'll never guess what i found at fanfiction.net just read this and laugh your ass off. make sure nick and the rest of them aren't in the room though cause otherwise you'll regret it. jesus christ I haven't laughed so hard in days.

I'm coming home for this weekend -- want to go to that club again? or do you have shit to do. haven't gotten laid in almost a month, it totally sucks and joey and chris won't go back after that guy said joey can't give head for shit.



to: l.b. (lance_blasts_off@hotmail.com)
from: "howie" (firefly_apprentice@yahoo.com)

subject: forgot--

to link you here -- kind of a glossary of stuff. "fanfiction critics association".


to: "howie" (firefly_apprentice@yahoo.com)
from: "lance" (lance_blasts_off@hotmail.com)

subject: re: forgot--

to link you here -- kind of a glossary of stuff. "fanfiction critics association".

replying on the plane, and reading stuff too. I've seen that link. I told you, been doing my own research. I know the web.

did you know that if you google "fanfiction" you get everything? over four hundred thousand links. most of it seems anime but I did see this which might interest you: this was on page five. remembered the name from those other linsk you gave me (quit looking at me like that, yeah I read a lot of stuff) and so I clicked on her. and wow. um. check out "distracted" cause if I'm reading that right isn't that us?....

tell me you didn't know about this, man. I'll be home in about four hours. call.


It took four hours after landing, Lance buying Howie two daquiris, and half a blow job before he admitted, "I'd read that before, yeah."

Lance paused, wiped his mouth. "What?"

Howie gasped, suddenly realizing that Lance wasn't doing anything, down there, anymore, and opened his eyes. "Huh?"

"You said." Lance sat back on his heels, eyes narrowed. "You said that you'd read that before. Read *what*?"

Howie blinked, and eventually his body realized that it wasn't, in fact, going to get off in the next five minutes. "Um."

"You mean that stuff." Lance stood up, keeping his voice carefully controlled. "About us."


"Bye Howie." It was friendly, but Howie groaned as the bathroom door swung closed.


"Come on, Lance, don't--"

Lance hung up on him. Twelve hours wasn't enough time to forgive Howie for not happening to mention that there was actually gay stories online about his whole band. By tomorrow night, sure. After all, Lance was only in town for four days and who else would go to the gay bar with him.

Justin rang his doorbell ten minutes later. Lance looked up at the ceiling, and thanked God.


They came back from the club, Rob driving, and Justin was a little buzzed and still ready to party. "C'mon Lance, throw a party?"

"Justin, it's midnight."

"pleeeeaaase." And so Lance called some people and they had an impromptu party, really for Justin. Lance ended up sitting down and reading on his laptop for a while.

AJ came by once and drawled, "You and howie are fuckin' obsessed," but Lance managed to shade his screen from AJ's eyes. When he got laid that night, some pretty screen tech, he wondered whether thinking about the fic he'd been reading was a little sick and perverted, or just egotistical.

In the morning, Lance was unsurprised to find Justin on his couch downstairs. "Everyone else leave?"

"Yeah." Justin stretched, rubbed his eyes. "Where the fuck did you disappear to last night?"

"Um." Lance jerked his head upstairs, and shrugged.

"Oh. Cool." Justin got up, barefoot and shirtless. "Can I have breakfast?"

"Justin." Lance licked the inside of his mouth, which was pretty fuzzy. Okay. Task one accomplished -- well and truely laid, and he still had two days left in Orlando. Well, one and a half really, but. Task two. "Make me some coffee."

"uh huh." Lance opened up his laptop, and found the website he'd been reading last night still open. While Justin set up the coffeemaker, Lance checked his email, flipped open another story unconsciously.


He was hunched over his laptop when Justin snuck up behind him with toast. "What're you doing?"

"Jesus!" Lance jumped, and his fingers were hitting alt-F4 before he knew what he was doing. "You scared the crap outta me."

"I know it wasn't porn," Justin drawled, leaning over Lance's shoulders, "cause I couldn't see any pictures when I came up. Spill."

Lance coughed, and stood up, lips in a thin line. "Justin, that is my business and not yours."

"Fine." Justin just waited until Lance had disappeared on the phone, coffee in hand, to turn the computer back on. Despite what most people thought, he *did* know how to use a computer; just preferred to let someone else do it.

History, history. IE -- of course Lance had IE -- and two more clicks, and--

"--wow." Okay, so it *was* porn. Justin kept reading for a few paragraphs, and then whistled. Okay. Good porn. Written porn.

...about him. And Chris. And a toaster, but that all fell away as Justin came to the part about--


With one movement, Lance had snapped his laptop closed, yanked the DSL cord out of the wall, and stood up straight again, hands on his hips indignantly. "You don't just play with my stuff. No."

"Soooo. Who's Calico, huh?"

Lance's face went bright red, and he stalked out, muttering. Justin called out, "I'm having a shower dude!" went to the bathroom and started thinking too. In the shower, with the hot water, and groaning a little as he came.


"So Bass." Chris flipped the burger on the grill -- everyone was convinced that because Lance was in Russia, he wasn't eating properly and was therefore stuffing him while he was home -- and said, "Heard you and J had a party last night."

Justin jumped in, "yeah, we were gonna call, but you had the thing and then--"

"Don't sweat it, Junior." JC grinned. "He needs his beauty sleep."

"What I was going to say--" Chris interrupted, with a glare at JC, "was if you're going to party, you might want to do it discreetly."

"Um." Lance was sitting on Chris's railing. "What?"

Justin laughed, had another sip of beer. "Like Lance was even partying. He spent half the night on his laptop and half the night with some--"

A hand clamped down on his mouth. Lance's. It tasted kind of good. Lance said, "Let's not go into that."

"What?" Chris and JC watched, interested.

"mmph" was all Justin could say and Lance very carefully changed the subject to making fun of Chris's pants. It didn't work, because when Chris went to get more beer, Justin put his empty one down and blurted, "there's like, stuff. online."

Lance glared at him. JC raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Like." Justin glanced at Lance, and then whispered, "us. Stories. And um. They're hot."

"Like those other--"

"NO," Lance interrupted, and then sighed. Justin felt a little guilty for the annoyed look on his face, but Lance was annoyed a lot. Lance continued, "If we're gonna be discussing this, let's at least get it right. Good stories. Like, literary. People with real skill. Publish-able quality."

JC said, "oh."

Justin added, "about us. Y'know. and sex."

Lance glared at Justin once more, murmured to JC, "Tell Chris I have, I dunno. Make up something about Russia," and he knew that JC would do a good job because no one really listened to what JC was saying because it took so long to come out of his mouth. Lance got up and left.

Justin watched Lance's car drive away. He rubbed his forehead. "I'm not drinking again."

JC patted him. "He'll be okay. So, but really. Sex? Us?"

Justin turned to grin.


to: h_dorough@jiveent.net
from: 2299456@att.net

what did you do when the guys found out about it? --l.


Howie called him back about ten minutes later. "I didn't tell them."

"What?" Lance made a right turn, and said, "how didn't they find out?"

"Well," and Howie sounded more than a little bitter, "unlike you guys, what we don't know doesn't hurt us. I mean we're friends, good friends, but I don't tell them on the rare occassions that I score or anything, either. Not even AJ."

"Oh." Lance made another right turn, waved to the security guard at the front gate, and felt a little guilty. "Listen, about last night--"

"Fuck you." But he sounded okay again. "Listen, I don't know. Who found out?"

"Um." Stop sign, signal, and then, "Justin and JC."

"What'd they say?"

"Well." Rolling to a stop in his driveway, Lance said, "Justin was kinda turned on, I think. JC," and he snorted, "didn't blink."

His front door, happy as usual. Lance paused on the front step because inside there was sure to be one or more of his family or friends. Howie sounded thoughtful. "Is Justin still straight?"

"Duh. Where have you been?"

Howie giggled. "I mean, does he still say he is?"

"Have you been reading the rumors?" Key in the lock. "Big breakup with Britney? He still hasn't said it to anyone, but we're counting down the days. Joey's already lost twenty bucks. He figures J would have come out by now. He's always the optimist."

"Oh, wow." Concern. Lance peeked into his living room, saw no one. The message light was flashing, however. "Poor Britney."

"Anyway, what the fuck am I gonna do?"

"Are they gonna tell anyone?"

"What?" Lance blinked. "Why does that matter? I'm mortified here."

"Hey!" A little indignant. "Those writers -- those *fans* -- could get into a lot of trouble. You better make sure that no one says anything, in case someone wants to take legal action."

"Howie, what the fuck?" Shoes off. "Legal action?"

"Lance," he answered patiently, "what would happen if say, the producers or whatever found out about people writing stories with their characters? There have been real problems in a lot of areas! Star Trek. Harry Potter." Lance blinked slowly, trying to picture Harry Potter slash. "This is why I was so hesitant to tell you! Imagine if people found out that there was fic about *real* *people*, and those real people got offended or mad. What if they wanted to sue the writers? What if YOU did? They're your fans, same as the teenies."

"Um." Lance threw his jacket on the couch -- less than twenty four hours before he flew back to Russia. "So you're saying that people might actually take this seriously?"

"Your publicists might." Howie sure *sounded* serious, anyway. "So make sure the two of them don't say anything. If this gets into the wrong hands, there could be legal battles and everything. And these men and women love us, just the same. It's a cultural phenomena and it has to be protected, and--"

"uh huh." Lance let Howie ramble on for a few minutes while he made a salad. "Right." The moral of the story seemed to be, 'don't talk about it with anyone.' He sighed. JC wouldn't say anything, but Justin was gonna be trouble. He interrupted Howie's explanation of how eventually, cameras will be everywhere and how their privacy wasn't really *theirs*, so it's not slander or libel but love with the best of intentions -- "right. I'll talk to J."

"Good." He could feel Howie smiling on the other end of the phone. "Make sure he doesn't tell your management."

"Uh huh."

"And you don't either."

"uh huh."

"The lid has to be kept on this, Lance," Howie said earnestly.

"Uh huh," Lance said. He ate his salad, had a bath, and flew back to Russia.


Ringing. By his head. Lance reached out. "Yeah?"

"Jesus Lance! wake the fuck up!"

Wait. What? Lance frowned, fighting the urge to wake up. It was almost six in the morning, his Indiglo watch was telling him. Lance dropped his wrist, and shut his eyes again. Unfortunately, that impulse to answer the cell phone even while asleep was still functioning, back from the days of shooting and recording at the same time -- and he'd forgotten to turn the damned thing off last night.

"Why?" He didn't even know who the voice on the other end of the phone belonged to. He was too tired to recognise it.

An annoyed voice: "Because you're gay, and you're into this, and I can't believe what I just saw on TV! Can you believe Mulder, man?"

"I." Lance reluctantly opened his eyes, and found himself staring up at his very Russian ceiling, in his Russian bed. Yes, he was still in Moscow-- it must be Justin that was crazy. "What?"


"It was rhetorical." Lance rolled over, eying his alarm clock. Over an hour and a half before he had to go for the first med check of the day. "Don't really tell me what. Hang up so I can get the fuck back to sleep."

"I." Justin clucked his tongue. The sound, carried by cellular satellites across the world, drilled into Lance's brain. "Man, I thought you were into this stuff."

"What *stuff*," Lance snapped.


Lance was glad his watch didn't tick, because it would have counted off a number of seconds before a metaphorical lightbulb, dim, flipped on above his bed. "Howie."

"He called me -- y'know, to make sure that I hadn't told anyone about what you guys were doing--"

"He, not we," Lance interrupted, "and he called you to what?"

"He knew you'd never double check with me before you left," Justin said smugly. "So he called me the day you flew back to Moscow and we started talking." There was a pause. "Howie's kind of cute when he's excited. Anyway, so I bought some X-files DVDs and then all the X-files tapes off some dude guy Howie knows at Fox, and then we started watching them, and like, I can't believe the series finale that just ended! There was a whole--"

"Wait." The phone was getting a little overheated against Lance's ear; he'd have to replace the battery soon, more than likely. "This is about the X-files?"

"Well yeah." Justin sounded surprised. "Don't you watch it?"


"I thought every slash fan watched the X-files." He took a breath, and Lance let the phone fall to his pillow as Justin added, "*I* watch the X-files, and I'm a slash fan. Certified. Howie said. He even said that if I went with him to this party that he'd intro--"

Lance closed his eyes. The phone emitted a steady stream of babble as he drifted off again. Lance fell asleep just as Justin was saying in a determined voice, "but I don't think that all the stuff out there is disrespectful because they just want to feel close to us and stuff, and I think I may try my hand at it," or he would have gotten extremely nervous.


Lance often found himself playing solitaire, while they were out on tour or on the road. He figured it was a nervous habit, because while he was at home, or even in the studio, the game had little appeal. Feeling a little out of place, even for all of his Russian lessons, had made that nervous habit come back. So it was while he was moving the six of hearts onto the seven of clubs that he remembered he'd forgotten to yell at Howie.

With a sigh, he pulled out his cell phone, interrupting his game. Howie's house line rang three times before Lance finally tried his cell. "Lance, dude!" Howie panted. "What's up?"

"Where the hell are you in the middle of the night, Howie?"

"Can't you add?" Howie said. "It's the middle of the afternoon. I was at the gym."

Lance eyed his watch. Fucker. He didn't even get to wake him up. "Anyway, why did you tell Justin about all that -- stuff?"

Lance could hear Howie giggling. "When did he talk to you? Cause he called me about half an hour after the X-files was over to rant, and he mentioned you were asleep. --did you see that, by the way? it was totally--"

"Howie." He closed his laptop, shifted under the covers of his bed. Nice bed. Warm bed. Empty bed, but one can't have it all. "I'm paying roughly four dollars a minute in long distance here. I wanted to say, quit bringing Justin into this stuff, man, he doesn't need some other hobby to freak him out."

"Why?" He sound genuinely puzzled. "He liked it."

Lance pinched the bridge of his nose. His glasses were rubbing his nose raw again. Time for new frames. "He says he's straight, man."

"Oh," and Lance heard a snort. "Who here believes that? Wait--" and Lance heard utter disbelief, "you're telling me you DON'T want him to come out? Fuck, Lance. You, me, AJ, Mark, and the rest of the modern gay world want Justin Timberlake to come out."

There was a sigh welling up in him, Lance could feel it. "Fuck you."

"It's okay, baby. He'll still love you in the morning. Even if you don't write porn."

Lance hung up. He knew that Howie had said it meaning to be comforting, but it didn't help. Really a lot. Because it meant that Lance started thinking about Justin writing porn.


He wasn't, though. Writing porn.

Justin stared at the screen of his new laptop, delivered by Gateway yesterday morning. There was a lot of porn. And it was all good. Eventually though, Justin found himself looking for the stories where everything ended up good. He read conscientiously, beefing up on his net-saavy, and shit like that. He even asked Melinda about getting an internet provider other than AOL. She almost had a heart attack.

He also went into chatrooms for over a week straight, getting into huge arguments with other slashers about the possibility of true love, and that Chris believed in it and Joey didn't, and that JC really wasn't an angel and Lance didn't always smell good. But he didn't have any internet-cred, yet, so they didn't listen.

When he complained to JC about it, JC patted him on the shoulder. "This group of people," JC said, "don't take you seriously even though you're articulating your opinions well and like, showin' them the, y'know. What you mean?"

"Um." Justin took a minute to add up what JC had said and put it through his mental filter named 'English'. "Yeah. I can't seem to build up any cred, or anything."

"Well then, get some."

Justin sighed. He was afraid JC would say that. There was only one thing left, then. "Okay. Do you know how to write porn?"


"No, no, 'lick', Justin, not--" JC sighed. "You can't just describe it visually. That's not what they're-- they're girls, you gotta write like a girl."

"Well I'm NOT a fucking girl, now am I!" Justin snapped, and shut down Word. He felt like a fucking girl, ready to get all snarky and bitchy and go off and sniffle for a while, just because he couldn't seem to get the hang of writing.

JC patted him on the shoulder, and wandered away. "Maybe you should call a girl."

Justin chewed on his pencil, the one he tried to write rock songs with. Call a girl for help about writing boysex for girls. But he only knew one girl who dug boys having sex, and she was the kind of girl to gloat for days--

Oh. Right. Of course.

Justin called out, "Fuck you, JC!" picked up his phone, and pressed '2' and 'dial'. Britney's mom answered the phone.


"Lemme get this straight." Britney sounded a little annoyed. "You came to me because you need writing help?"

Justin coughed. "Um."

"From a girl's point of view."

He coughed again. "Uh."

"About something that you can't explain because you're too embarrassed to talk to me about -- me, who had to ask you how to give blow jobs and who threw up all over you when I was sixteen."


"This has gotta be good."


She came out to visit him from her apartment in New York, bringing her best friend and a bodyguard but no one else. The best friend decided to spend her entire time on the beach, which Justin was ecstatic over. The second morning Britney was in town, staying with him, she came down in just a nightie and he rolled his eyes.

"You can't do that anymore, B."

She looked down at herself, and shrugged. Her pony-tail and breasts bounced. "You can't complain." She shrugged again. "Besides. We're supposed to be friends, right?"

He swallowed. "Yeah. And um, as friends. I was wondering if you could help me..."


She laughed at him. He said, "no, really," and she nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. Britney laughed so hard she almost fell in her eggs.

"Is that a yeah, then?" Justin said, feeling very uncomfortable.

After a moment, she sputtered, gulping air into her lungs. "I think I leaned in my eggs."

They went over his first attempt at sex, Britney reading out of his notebook with a brand new red pen in her mouth, lid already chewed to pieces. "No, no, and no," she started, and pulled the cap off.

Justin watched her in trepidation. When she was finished, the only thing left were the few lines of cheesy dialogue at the end. She handed the two pages back proudly. He stared at her pen morosely. "You're gonna have to get a different color."

"why?" Britney beamed at him. "Red's traditional."

"Um." He glanced at the book, and wilted a little more. "Because my ego can't take that much red."

"Sure it can," she said professionally. "Take it from someone who knows -- you can't do something you're not good at. Sweetie, it looks like you don't write sex the best. Think of it this way," she added, "would you rather write it well or do it well?"

Justin thought about it for a minute. "Exactly," she continued. "Besides. I can write your sex scenes. I'm," Brit declared, "a natural."

He blinked. "How do you know?"

"Trust me," Britney purred, settling herself down onto his couch and tucking her legs up under her. She was still incredibly pretty. He felt a surge of affection -- she'd only laughed for about ten minutes, and now she was taking him seriously, had actually bought a red pen and scribbled out, well, all of his writing actually, but she'd done it without calling him a moron or a freak.

Justin said quietly, "I'm sorry. Y'know. I--"

She cut him off. "Don't, okay?" It wasn't mean, or angry. "I know, and it's okay. It'll be okay."

"Yeah." He frowned. "So, you're gonna take care of writing the sex?" She nodded. "So what am I gonna do?"

Britney grinned at him, strangely gentle. "What you're good at."


Three days later, Justin chewed on the end of his pencil, staring down and frowning at his notebook. What he was good at, okay. Every now and then he would look up and watch JC and Joey, the way they interacted. The way Joey seemed to always have at least one hand on JC at all times, or how JC would tilt his head back and smile at Joey, cheeks flushed.

Chris leaned over. "Whatcha doin' junior?"

He scowled. "Nothin'." Chewed on the pencil more.

This should be *easy*. He knew JC and Joey in person, unlike the rest of the slash writers online -- except for Howie, who knew them. But the rest of the writers didn't know that Joey burned pasta, or that JC loved the movie "Blade II" so much he tried to buy an advance copy. Not even Howie had that much insider info.

Joey blew a straw wrapper at JC. Chris poked Justin until he got distracted, and then Justin sighed. JC shoved Joey off the couch. Justin chewed on his eraser more. Work with what you're given, he thought, and started writing.

Joey glanced over, taking in Justin and the eraser. "That's not healthy, dude."

But then JC tackled him and started tickling, and Justin rolled his eyes. Neither of them noticed because of the squealing and giggling. It was almost romantic, Justin thought. Kinda. If you squint.


to: h_dorough@jiveent.net
from: "JRT" (jrt@jiveent.net)

subject: confession

gotta confess D. after you told me about that thing like I kinda started and then I watched a lot and I got to writing. anyway you said you edited stuff for people sometimes so you look at something for me? umm yeah brit wrote the best parts because I couldn't do it (I feel so dumb!) but she promised not to tell anyone and we've promised that a lot like so she's trustworthy.

anyway yeah attached is the, what do you call it? so um. please? I'll sing on one of your tracks. ;-)


to: "JRT" (jrt@jiveent.net)
from: firefly_apprentice@yahoo.com

subject: re: confession

I read and that's not bad, not bad at all. You can forward this to Britney. I was really impressed for a first try. Some changes I'd suggest, they're below. Don't get discouraged tho, because this is what a beta reader does right? it's like wade in the practise room, only not as harsh and definitely hurts less!! I guess first-hand knowledge does work wonders. I should have guessed you'd be a romantic.

my IM name is apprenticefly72. hit me up if you wanna talk about those other ideas. if you're serious about getting into this, Im pretty sure you've got a chance to get pretty far. --howie.

PS: I'll sing on one of your tracks. ;-)

glad there's a wink there! j/k.


to: "blondie" (l_bass@mircorp.net)
from: "JRT" (jrt@jiveent.net)

subject: seeeeex

wrote my first and i think it's good even if britney did sort out the sexy parts. the girl really likes the idea of boys giving blowjobs what can I say. anyway attached it to the email. hope your training is going well when you get home you wanna go out to the "firestone"? feel like dancing. when are you coming home again?


PS: oh and howie and I may have had sex and I don't want you to hear about it thru someone else okay? don't be mad.


to: "J" (jrt@jiveent.net)
from: "Lance" (l_bass@mircorp.net)

subject: re: seeeeex

>>wrote my first and i think it's good even if britney did sort out the sexy parts. the girl really likes the idea of boys giving blowjobs what can I say. anyway attached it to the email. <<

brit? you cant evn _write_ gay secx now?

>>hope your training is going well when you get home you wanna go out to the "firestone"? feel like dancing. when are you coming home again?<<

week ana half.

>>PS: oh and howie and I may have had sex and I don't want you to hear about it thru someone else okay? don't be mad.<<

how d'you "mayhavesex'? and why woudl I be mad justin? i'm not.

ps: sorry about teh typing i went out tonite and ddrank, heh.


Lance called Howie the next morning with a pounding headache. Thank god it was Saturday. He muttered, "note to self. Vodka shots. no."

Howie picked up. "Hi you."

"Quietly, Howie."

"Um, I have something to confess--"

Lance picked up his toothbrush and toothpaste. "I hate Justin. Even *he's* getting laid now."

"Oh. So you know." Howie sounded very contrite. "Are you mad?"

"Mad?" He stuck the toothbrush in his mouth and started brushing. "Why would I be mad? Just cause the most closeted man on the planet just got fucked and I didn't. No," he said seriously, "I'm not mad. Just sexually frustrated."

"Um." Lance spat, and then looked in the mirror again. Howie said hesitantly, "Well, everyone kinda knows you've been waiting for him to, y'know. Figure out who he--"

"How's sleeping with anyone I can waiting?" He spat again, and rinsed his mouth. "I called to tell you to be careful. He's never done that before."

"Awww!" Howie squeaked. "You're worried about him! Don't worry, Lance, I knew he was a virgin and we talked about it a lot. Actually, he said that it was nice talking to someone about it, finally, who he knew wasn't gonna joke or anything, and so we started talking about identity, and--"

Lance set his treadmill up, putting the phone down on the controls carefully. He could still hear Howie, though it was muffled and drowned out a little as he started his warm-up. This was getting to be a trend.


The Justin conversation was blissfully short, because he managed to catch him just as he was headed out with Trace, Howie, AJ and Dani. Lance said, "Wait. Dani as in, Chris's Dani?"

"Um." Justin sounded sheepish. "No?"

"You ass," but Lance chuckled. "So you ended up popping your cherry huh? Feel good?"

"Oh, baby. I had no idea." Justin yelled at someone, "I'll be RIGHT there," and then added, "Um. hey. but a lot of people don't know yet. So can you please--"

"Right, you're still straight."

Lance could almost see the blush on Justin's cheeks. He rolled his eyes. Justin answered, "Well, no... I guess not. But I really don't know what to say. So." It all came out in a rush. "I just trust you to talk to about this kinda thing because you know me pretty well and you know Howie and so it's not weird."

Lance clicked his teeth together a few times. "Right."

"Um." Lance could hear people talking and laughing in the background. Justin said, "Look, I gotta run, but-- hey, why'd you get drunk last night?"

He could see the other guys on the project, laughing and ignoring him, and then how Lori had come over with a glass. "You look lonely," she had said, and then "who did it?"

Lance had shook his head, a little dizzy. "No one. I, I got an email about some friends of mine who hooked up."

She had clucked sympathetically. "And that's bad news for you?"

"No, no." Lance had waved his glass around. "No, just. I'm here and they're not and I'm here." He had gulped, and mumbled, "I'm okay."

She had patted his arm, and let him lean on her for a while. She had also said, "Sure," even if she hadn't believed it.

--Justin said, "Hey?"

Lance blinked. "No, I just. There was a party."

"Rock on, baby." Justin yelled, "*okay!*", again, and said, "Gettin' it on with the cosmonauts."

He hung up. Lance muttered, "yeah."


Lance called again, sober this time, to lecture Justin on suddenly becoming a slut.

"Okay, Lance, you are so not someone to talk about sleeping around, dude." Justin sighed. "How many guys have you had sex with in the last month?"

Lance looked around his apartment. The view of Moscow was incredible; he was just a mile away from some of the most impressive Russian monuments, and just ten miles from the Mircorp offices. "Three," he answered sullenly, and realized that two of those times were Howie, and then, "two."

"Awww." Justin's voice held no sympathy whatsoever. "And in total?" When Lance didn't respond, he was smug. "See? So shut up. It's not like I'm slutting it up-- it's Howie."

"But. It's Howie."

Justin said, "I *LIKE* Howie. He's hot and he watches cool TV, and he's fun to dance with."

"Justin, you and Howie have nothing to talk about."

"So?" Justin didn't state the obvious, like Lance had nothing in common with anyone he slept with except possibly the same gym. "I like him. He's nice."

"He's so not your type, J. What the hell. You'd date a guy just because he's hot and watches your TV shows?"

"Um. Well. Kinda. I mean, I'm not falling in love with him. But I like him. He's a cool friend. And I like it when he fucks--"

"Let's stop right there." Lance looked out his at his marvelous view. "I'm coming home tomorrow."

"Awsome! We can go to 'Firestone' and I can truely appreciate it."

"I thought you were being faithful to Howie." Lance bit his lip, trying not to sound bitter. It wasn't his fault that Justin had come of age, so to speak, just at the wrong time for him to get any piece of it. "No, forget it. I gotta go, J."

Lance hung up. Justin stared at the phone. He muttered, "What's up with him?"


Howie and Justin were in bed again that night. Howie said, "It's obvious, Justin."

"What is?" Justin nibbled on his ear absently. "I'm pretty obvious, I know."

"No," and Howie gasped a little, "quit that, hang on." Justin reluctantly rolled away, leaning on his arm to listen. "What's up with Lance."

Justin blinked. "What?"

Howie smiled triumphantly. "He's into you."

Justin blinked again. "You think?"

"Please. Everyone else is." Howie stroked Justin's spine gently, running his fingers over the muscles and knobs of bone. "You're just loveable."

Justin frowned slightly. "Huh." Lance was into him. "I never would have guessed. Though Lance did keep things to himself, and he was acting really weirdly. "I told you about that drunken email where he couldn't even spell sex?"

"Yep. See?" Howie sure sounded convinced. "He was so upset about us that he had to get drunk to email you."

"Um." Justin was still dubious. "Okay."


Justin went with Diane to pick up Lance and Jim from the airport. On the way, Diane said, "Justin, may I ask you a question?"

"Sure, Diane." Justin smiled. "Anything. You're like a second mom to me, you know."

"Well don't let Britney's mother hear you say that," but she was chuckling. "I was wondering. Do you have designs on my son?"

Justin blinked. "Um. Designs?"

"Intentions." Diane spared a glance at him from the road, smiling kindly at him. "It's just, you've never come to the airport before, and you're--"

"Obvious, I know." Justin pursed his lips.

"No, honey." She switched lanes and got off the I-4. "Not at all. Just, sweet. You're really sweet."

"...thank you." She left off the other part, about how Lance was rarely sweet to people, was mostly either bitchy or mean because of various reasons, and though she loved him unconditionally and thought he was the most wonderful person on the planet -- she was his mother and Justin was not. Justin suddenly sat up nervously. "Um. Diane."


"Who told you I was." He coughed, and debated with himself. "Into Lance?"

"Sweetheart." She smiled at him, sunny and warm to take away the sting. "It's obvious, too."

"Oh," he muttered. Justin really loved Diane. He loved him so much that, if she weren't a woman and weren't Lance's mother, he'd probably have designs on her himself. Unfortunately.

She put a hand on his knee, as they pulled into a parking space. "Look at me." Justin did. "It'll be okay. He's afraid a lot but he's not stupid." Diane grinned. "And he's got great taste."


to: h_dorough@jiveent.net
from: jrt@jiveent.net

subject: problem.

hey D gotta problem. Big problem. --btw I decided to try and take your advice and make my emails a little more grammar-correct cause if I'm gonna be writing fic (that's the word right?) I gotta practise practise practise... anyway. problem. big problem. so I'm riding to the aiport with diane and apparently I have a crush on Lance? why didn't anyone tell me? why did DIANE have to tell me this? jeez howie. you could have said something. like, we're sleeping together and you don't say that I dig lance? not once? --besides I thought you said he was into ME not the other way around... help! this is turning into one of those stupid stories.


Lance leaned over his shoulder as Justin pressed 'send'. "Whatcha doing? And what's with the new computer, hotshot? I thought you hated them."

"Uh." Justin giggled nervously. "Impulse buy."

"Whatever." Lance went back to the huge dinner that Diane had thrown for him and that Justin had crashed. Justin watched him walk away, and made a face.

Howie called him about half an hour later. "You finally figured out about Lance?"

"What?" Justin snapped. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Justin," Howie said patiently, "there are some things you have to figure out on your own."

Justin said goodbye and hung up. He hated when people were right.


Justin spent a whole day at home -- one of the three that Lance was in town -- and read. Before, he had stayed away from most of the stuff that had himself in it, at least most of the mushy stuff, sticking with JC and Joey and Chris and Lance instead. His first story, which he had only gotten two emails about and both of them were complimenting the sex, was Joey and JC. The one he was pain-stakingly writing now, his second, was Joey and JC. Really, he thought, it was all about the Joey and JC.

Justin sat up, in his bed, and looked at his laptop, where he was halfway through 'Montana'. It really *was* all about Joey and JC... he grabbed his cell from the bedside table and called Joey. "Hey, man, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, but," Justin heard someone yelling in the background, "make it quick, kay? I got company."

"Um." He swallowed. "Are you and JC together?"

Joey started laughing. Justin felt incredibly stupid, for all of five seconds, and then Joey said, "Someone finally figured it out!"

"Right." Justin smiled, despite himself. Incredibly stupid turned into incredibly smug. "Congrats, Joe. So do I keep it a secret?"

"Nah. If people ask, y'know. We're obvious."

Justin finished his sentence. "Right. And people are just blind."

"Yeah, so y'know. Whatever. Listen, um, JC's over so can I--"

"Yeah, of course." Justin hung up, and looked at his screen. 'Montana' waited, but he'd already read it, and apparently Joey and JC were already together. No point in calling JC for help, either.

Justin opened his list of bookmarks, and started with Helen. There had to be at least one or two stories that were him and Lance.


JC called him about four hours later, asking whether he wanted to go out with him and Joey. Justin mumbled, "busy."

JC asked, "Justin, what's up?"

"No, nothing. I'm fine, I'm good." He was currently halfway through First Love and Other Miscommunications. "Actually," Justin said, looking up from the screen, "can I ask you a question?"


"Have you been reading any slash with us in it?"

"A little." JC sounded puzzled. "Why?"

"I dunno. Have fun. --hey wait. Is Lance going with you?"

"Uh, maybe? Joey says yes, we're picking him up."

Justin closed his computer, glancing in the mirror. Time to get changed and try and be 'loveable', as Howie put it. "Okay, pick me up too." So many writers couldn't be wrong, right?


At the party, Justin, a little tipsy, cornered JC and started talking in a hushed voice about all the stuff he'd read. JC patted his arm. "What?"

"Who's your favorite?"

JC frowned. "I dunno. I mean, I know you've gotten really into this, but I'm." He shrugged. "I dunno. I'm not into it as much as you are." JC smiled at Justin. "Tell me who your favorite is."

"Well, I dunno." He grinned sharkishly, feeling a little dizzy. "Calico is hot. Hotter'n hot hot!"

He didn't want to tell the truth, which was of all the fics he read, he only really liked the ones where people ended up happy. And of those, he liked the ones where *he* ended up happiest, the most. It gave him hope.

Justin thought he was probably pretty drunk to be thinking thoughts like this.

JC grinned at him. "Aww, you're paper-thin. It's okay. We all know you dig your own happy endings the most."

Justin frowned. "It's not like that," he started, because he didn't want JC thinking he was some kind of total egoist or anything. He just liked the way Sandy worked through the problems and ended up with something that turned out well. Because of the work, not despite it. Justin could only hope some day that he could end up in something like Sandy had written.


to: "howie" (apprentice_firefly@yahoo.com)
from: "lance" (lance_blasts_off@hotmail.com)

subject: ewwwww.

this. tell me you didn't know that there was o-town slash out there howie or by god I will never speak to you again.


to: "lance" (lance_blasts_off@hotmail.com)
from: "howie" (apprentice_firefly@yahoo.com)

subject: re: ewwwww.

this. tell me you didn't know that there was o-town slash out there howie or by god I will never speak to you again.

ummmmm.... it's really funny though isn't it?


to: "JRT" (jrt@jiveent.net)
from: "howie" (apprentice_firefly@yahoo.com)

subject: Lance

Justin, can you please tell Lance I'm sorry, and that if he never speaks to me again I can't introduce him to this friend of mine that thinks he has a really cute ass? and tell him I'm really sorry. Seriously. seriously really sorry.



to: "D" (apprentice_firefly@yahoo.com)
from: "jrt" (jrt@jiveent.net)

subject: re: Lance

howie, I called him but he didn't want to talk about it. Also, remember, crushing, me?

again I can't introduce him to this friend of mine that thinks he has a really cute ass? and tell him I'm really sorry. Seriously. seriously really sorry.

For my sake I hope he doesn't want to meet your friend. --J.


to: "brit" (britnaaay322@aol.com)
from: "JRT" (jrt@jiveent.net)

subject: Lance

Okay brit, second story on the way. fill in whatever scenes you think it needs. tried to be a little less gooey and a little more like how things really are this time, cause of what howie told us. Also remember: lube lube lube. now I know this really!!

on another matter. Lance. *why*. Tell me. --love J.


"I just don't get it, Justin." Joey took another shot and sunk the eight ball. "It's the worst timing in the world and stuff. Plus you're not usually this dumb."

Justin leaned on his pool cue. They were supposed to be at the compound and working on new material. "I know."

"Like. It's stupid. Okay?"

Justin glanced at Joey, who smiled the minute JC walked up and kissed his cheek. He thought maybe Joey wasn't the best person to give advice. He called Britney.


"No, I don't know what you should do."

"But Brit--"

"Look, I gotta go. There's that other scene I have to finish and then I have rehearsal and a club opening, and an after-party and I'd totally love to come and hang with you but I can't right now. Call Lance and tell him you think you guys would be hot. He goes for that."




Justin walked up to Chris, who was washing his car with Johnny's hose. "I think I have a thing for Lance."

"Oh? Why?"

"Um." Justin thought about it. "...cause Howie and Diane and Britney said I did."

"Do you?"

Justin wandered away. That was even less helpful than Joey had been, than Howie too. Howie had even said that he wasn't going to come over any more, that they were just friends now, because of him and Lance. And there wasn't anything happening between him and Lance.

Chris called after him, "And since when do you bat for the other team?"

None of this was helping, Justin thought morosely. He decided to go ask someone that could.


apprenticefly: no I don't have anyone's IM justin. what do you want me to do?
russiansdoitinspace: C'mon, Howie. not even someone big. just one of the writeres that always get people together and happy. I need help!
apprenticefly: just be you.
russiansdoitinspace: fuck you. I need better help than that.
apprenticefly: well.. have you tried asking on livejournal?
russiansdoitinspace: what?
apprenticefly: livejournal. Helen's on it. everyone is. Ask one of them. ask that gal that you're obsessed with that you keep rereading. the one that wrote, whatever it was.
russiansdoitinspace: "first love and other miscommunications". and I don't obsess.
apprenticefly: you called me drunk and talked about it.
russiansdoitinspace: you called me drunk and talked about the roswell finale for hours!!
apprenticefly: shut up.
russiansdoitinspace: Sorry. Just help me? I mean, you said lance has a thing for me, but this is hard. he's in Moscow, with a cold, and missing his tests. and I feel bad for him and I wanna do something for him!
apprenticefly: so do. look. I gotta go. AJ's picking me up.
apprenticefly signed off at 10:50:40 PM.


"Heeyyyyy, Lance!" Lance grimaced at Justin's voice. He had a cold, was sniffling all over his upholstery, tissues in hand, missing important tests, and now Justin was calling him drunk, to top it off. "What's up, sport?"

"Justin?" Lance sneezed, and wiped his nose. "What time is it there? It's almost noon here."

"Uh. Dunno. Can't see my watch."

Lance snuggled down under his comforter. "Why'd you call? Please tell me this isn't another show thing."

"No, no. Hey, are you still reading stuff, Lance?" Justin coughed, and there was the sound of a door being shut and some rustling papers. "Cause I am. And I think, I think I've gotten a favorite pairing."


"Yeah. Hang on--" and Lance heard Justin cursing, muffled, and then "I'm back. stupid shirt. Anyway yeah. I think we're my favorite pairing."


"Because. See." Lance gazed out his windows, impatiently waiting for Justin to come to a point. "Because I like our stories best. We need to be happy. See?"

"You're--" Lance frowned, wondering what the hell he was supposed to say to that. "You're sweet. Now I think you should go to bed."

"Oh," and Justin yawned, "I'm gonna. I just, wish you were here too."

Lance's cock stirred, despite himself. Justin was hot, and sweet. And Howie had fucked him first. "Get some sleep, man," he said. "I'll see you next week."

Justin mumbled, slurring, "Why're you coming home so often? It must cost a fortune."

Lance hung up. He didn't want to say.



"I don't want to hear it Howie."

Howie waited for the inevitable hang-up. When it didn't come, he said hesitently, "Is this about pointing you at an O-town story?"


"Oh." Howie bit his lip. "Is this about Justi--" Lance hung up. Howie nodded, staring at his phone. "Of course."


Britney came over to Justin's place in Orlando again. She giggled. "I like this us not needing to rehearse so much, and not needing to be in the studio so much. I mean, I get my weekends free finally!"

They went into the living room, and Britney giggled when she saw Justin's laptop sitting on his kitchen table with dirty dishes all around it. "What've you been up to? Writing another hit single?"


"Or was it that sequel you were hoping to do?" She looked at him, pulling her hair out of her face. "Because I'm up for some hot boy-on-boy action if you are." She giggled.

He gulped, leading her to a chair. "I was wondering if I could run you through a few ideas."

She frowned. "Sure, but you're the one who's best friends with our subjects. I mean, I can't really add anything but some lickin' and grindin', you know." Britney patted his hand reassuringly. "You're good at the real stuff."

"No, no." He sighed. "Not that. Um. Okay. Howie said that Lance may have a thing for me."


"Well, more like he did. I added the maybe. But -- quit laughing!" She covered her mouth, trying to stop laughing. "This is serious! Because after he said that, I started thinking about him!"

"Oh, Justin." She sobered up immediately. "No. Don't do that."

He looked down, miserably. "Why not?"

"Because, honey. It's Lance, first of all." Britney ticked off points on her perfectly manicured hands. "He's in Moscow, second of all. It's *Lance*, third of all. How could he make you happy?"

Justin opened his mouth to start arguing, about how he'd been reading ALL WEEK about how Lance actually made him quite happy, thank you, and that a lot of people seemed to believe in it, look at these bookmarks, but he realized that that kind of argument wasn't going to work very well. "Um."

She looked at him strangely. "What's up?"

"Nothing." Justin tried not to blush. "It's just. There are a lotta stories out there that seem to think otherwise."

Britney got up and hugged him tightly. She murmured, "It might be true, but it'll be harder that reading about it to make it happen."

They wrote a bunch more fic that weekend and she showed him her new song. They also went out dancing and he picked up a boy. Joey congradulated him, JC looked at him strangely, and Chris shook his head saying "what fucking memo did *I* miss?" It was all in fun though, because Chris knew first.

Justin told Britney, "Post that story when you get back."

She nodded to him, waving at the airport. "Will do! I just wish we had a better email address to send from. God I miss chickmail."


She giggled. "Nothing. I'm gonna miss my plane if I don't hurry. Bye!" She kissed his cheek and ran off with her bodyguard. Justin drove home, and tried to work on a song that ended up sounding as if Aaron Carter had written it.


to: "JRT" (jrt@jiveent.net)
from: "pinky" (pinkygurl81@yahoo.com)

subject: fwd: feedback

whoo hoo! feedback of the good kind! honey something we're doing is right I'm so excited. I mean it's not quite like a stadium full of people but it's awsome anyway!


hi there guys!

I read your fic on the nsyncslash list and I loved it! it was awsome. Joey and JC were so sweet, and I never thought of JC as a vampire movie fan but who knows right! the only thing is I don't know if Justin would be that considerate -- often he's seen as a brat not that he necessarily is lol! but I dunno. it was interesting anyway even if I dunno that they'd talk about hemmingway on the bus! thanks for posting and write more!


can you believe she thought you got your SELF wrong?? that's so funny!! I told howie too and he laughed on the phone. bye! --b.


to: "blondie" (lance_blasts_off@yahoo.com)
from: "JRT" (jrt@jiveent.net)

subject: [no subject]

hi there cutie. guess what? I type better drukn than you do. much much better. so I was thinking you sounded sad on the phone the other nihgt. and this cheered me up when I needed it. so maybe you want to read it.

first love and other miscommunications

i like it because it's something that isn't easy and ends up right in the end anyway it's my favorite fic. and I've been reading this stuff alot lately and brit says that its fucking with my brain, only she said it with more words and i udnno if she's right or not but.

I miss you.


to: "JRT" (jrt@jiveent.net)
from: "Lance" (lance_blasts_off@yahoo.com)

subject: re: [no subject]

hi there cutie. guess what? I type better drukn than you do. much much better. so I was thinking you sounded sad on the phone the other nihgt. and this cheered me up when I needed it. so maybe you want to read it.

first love and other miscommunications

I knew that one already, J. it's my favorite too.

i like it because it's something that isn't easy and ends up right in the end anyway it's my favorite fic. and I've been reading this stuff alot lately and brit says that its fucking with my brain, only she said it with more words and i udnno if she's right or not but.

I miss you.

I miss you too. Can't wait to come home.


Lance came home a few days later. Justin met him at the airport again. Andthentheyhadsextheend.


liked this? there's a deleted scene or two. | back