are you doing your thing
The show started with "Do Your Thing" because it was the message they wanted to give. Not celebrities, not living the high life, just doing their thing and being who they were, plain and simple.
Lance was mumbling to himself in the car to the club, muttering phrases in Russian. Justin leaned over. "That's kind of sexy."
Lance shoved him. "Shut up."
Justin shoved back. "I'm serious."
"Huh." Lance danced with him at the club, and smiled up at him, and Justin felt, in general, that he was doing something right. He felt like he was doing something even more right when he convinced Lance to fuck him.
The next day, he felt like even more of a star, since after the club, and the dancing, and the fever and the party, Lance got into Justin's car as if that was where he belonged, and followed Justin to his hotel room door. He said, once, "You want to?" and all Justin had done was nodded. A lot.
Lance fucked him again, and then again. Justin was pretty happy with the situation. He felt like a true-blue celebrity, even though he didn't tell anyone. They would have laughed.
there ain't no excuse
JC slung an arm around Justin. "So. You and Brit are no more, huh."
Justin nodded, and then changed the subject. He didn't want to explain how Lance looked at him, how Britney didn't. Justin was a big fan of doing what you wanted. This principle extended to include Lance.
losing your feet
Lance pulled his tongue out, and stroked Justin's tailbone, which was wet and slippery with sweat. His voice was smug when he answered, "Busy," and then he put his lips on Justin's tailbone, licking his way down before putting the tip of his tongue back in his, in his. Justin couldn't even think it.
Justin moaned, and said again, "Fucking do it, I need it now..."
Lance moved his tongue around a little, feeling all the ridges of skin inside Justin. Justin tried to shift back, make Lance put his tongue farther in, but Lance pulled away, licking his teeth. "Patience is a virtue."
Justin collapsed on the bed, but carefully. He laid on his side and glared at Lance, at the foot of the bed. "You're never gonna just fucking get to it, are you."
Lance stared at him for a long moment. Justin shifted again, putting his own finger to his hole. "Fine, if you're not gonna--" He managed to get his own finger inside himself up to the first knuckle, and had his head tilted back, a satisfied expression on his face. Justin's eyes were just closing when Lance grabbed his wrist, halting his progress.
Justin's eyes flew open, angry, but he let Lance pull his hand away. "Fucking do me, then!"
Lance murmured, "you've got a dirty mouth," as he picked up Justin's hips. He slid in two fingers carefully, and Justin was already moaning softly. Lance added, "I like it," as he tilted Justin's pelvis up for the right angle, and finally got to it.
Justin murmured, "Fucking finally." It should have been a gasp, a sharp sound, but instead it was a contented little sigh. Lance stroked Justin's hip, once, and licked the inside of his mouth.
hesitating for somebody else
Joey found out because he found Justin and Lance making out. He swallowed, once, and then backed away. Lance later asked him about it, and Joey covered by saying he was just tired, and surprised.
"You're sure you're okay?"
Joey nodded. He was okay. That was the kind of thing he told Lance, so that the two of them were okay.
That night, Lance let Justin fuck him, and Joey screwed up the choreography in Denver.
drowning in your defeat
JC found Justin the next morning, sitting all by himself before the show, wiping his eyes. JC sat down, and said, "What's wrong?"
Justin sighed. "Nothing." He tried to hide his eyes.
JC took a breath, trying to decide how to approach this problem. It's not that Justin was difficult to talk to, but he had been unpredictable lately. JC asked, "The tour getting you down?"
Justin shook his head. "No. It's." He looked away. "Britney called me just now."
JC put an arm around Justin. "Miss her, huh? You were the one that pulled the plug, but sometimes it's still hard. I know."
Justin threw off his arm, wiped his face half-angrily. "It's not. I don't miss her, really. I should, but."
"So what's wrong?"
Justin looked up, eyes wet and face pinched. "That I don't miss her. I've never missed anybody. Maybe I won't ever."
JC answered softly, "oh." Justin considered this lack a failing. JC didn't have the right kind of sympathy for this.
He did have the right kind of sympathy to lick Justin's neck, and pet his newly shaved head, and let Justin go down on him. JC didn't actually make a lot of noise, whereas Lance usually did, and Justin felt vaguely dissatisfied when he was finished.
drop out of the sky
Justin started expecting Lance. Lance didn't stand him up. They found that, actually, they could have a lot of fun together. Living the life was enough in common to have a lot of fun.
Lance muttered, "Hurry up and put the condom on, Justin," and then gasped softly as Justin slipped it on.
Lance slid into Justin, the condom all slippery with lube, and paused, letting Justin adjust. After a minute -- the pause was getting shorter each time they fucked -- Justin moved, making Lance go farther in, and Lance started rocking his hips. Justin closed his eyes, eyeballs rolling into the back of his head. This was definitely the life.
the ball is in your court
Joey looked up at Lance, who was studying a Russian textbook. "When do you go?"
Lance shrugged. "Don't know. When they call me."
Joey moved to sit down beside Lance on the couch. It was just the two of them in the Quiet Room, everyone else watching Justin and Chris battle next door. Joey peered over Lance's shoulder, pretending interest. "How do you say 'fuck me' in Russian?"
Lance inhaled, sharply, and closed his book. "I don't know. They don't really teach us that."
"Oh." Joey leaned his head on Lance's shoulder. "Excited?"
"Well, duh," and that sounded a little more like Lance, so Joey peered up at his chin. Lance added, "I mean. I might actually get to fulfil my dreams, y'know?"
Joey pursed his lips. He could picture Lance, eager and excited, yet restrained and professional, talking about going into space, and it was still something he couldn't believe. Not that Lance was going, but that he wasn't happy enough here.
He said quietly, "Yeah," and Lance looked at him, craning his head down so he could look at Joey.
Lance opened his mouth, to reply, but Joey said again, urgently, "*Lance*." Joey tilted his head up, and kissed him instead, right on the mouth. Joey didn't think about Justin, just about Moscow and how cold it could be.
Their lips didn't move, and after only a few seconds, Joey pulled away. Sagged into the couch. Lance looked a little confused, but said nothing. Joey almost said, "I can't believe I did that."
Eventually, Joey mumbled, "sorry," and thought about falling, about things that he'd missed and was going to miss from now on. He had fallen one way, but Lance had fallen another. Maybe the sky fell yesterday, and he didn't notice -- maybe it fell every time Justin and Lance ended up fucking, or whatever they did that was more emotional than fucking. Maybe it fell daily.
being something somewhere
On the bus, Justin sang to Lance, "are you doing your thing and doing it good," bumping his hip on Lance. When Lance stepped back, Justin started swaying, his hips moving to the music. He shook them, once, twice, and then grinned at Lance coyly.
Lance folded his arms over his chest, watching Justin dance for him. Justin's head fell back, his body moving easily. It was getting easier to just be, with Lance. Justin heard, "I always thought 'Up Against the Wall' was a sexier song."
Justin opened his eyes, shrugging. "Switch it, then."
Lance shoved him against the counter, and Justin moved against him, in time to the music, as they kissed.
taking on your perfect dream
JC asked Justin, "Are you okay now?"
Justin blinked. "What?"
JC fidgeted, kind of uncomfortable. "Well, you've seemed a little. You've been kind of." Justin waited for JC to get to the point, which always took a while, and finally JC blurted, "You've been weird."
"What? Why?" Justin thought about it for a minute, trying to come up with something that could have lead JC to think that.
JC hunched his shoulders. "Just. You and Lance."
Justin answered softly, "Oh." His lips twitch. "Oh, yeah. Well." There wasn't anything he could say to that, because the fact that Lance made him feel like a star in the way that no one else could wouldn't be very well accepted. The fact that Lance let him interrupt Russian lessons, that he taught Justin how to give head -- JC didn't want to hear any of that.
JC put a hand on Justin's knee. "As long as you're happy."
Justin looked down at the hand on his knee. It was surprising, but he answered, "Yeah, I am."
pass you by
Joey was a lot more blunt. "You happy with the infant?"
Lance kept eating calmly. "He's twenty one now."
"Is it wise?"
When Lance looked up, Joey realised that he'd put his foot in, right up to the knee. This was, then, another thing they weren't going to discuss. Joey sighed. "Sorry."
Lance nodded, eyes gentle, and kept studying and eating his high-carb foods. Joey glanced at his watch, heart painful. He'd missed his chance, but he'd had to try.
this road of life
"I can't believe you blew JC."
Justin shrugged, stroked Lance's forearm again. They were curled up in bed, skipping breakfast for some quiet time. "I was unhappy."
Lance raised an eyebrow. "So you wanted to blow JC?"
Justin frowned. "Hey, we all do stupid things, right?" Lance grinned at him, to show no hard feelings, and Justin wrapped the blanket around himself tighter. The pillows were soft, and the sheets were clean. Hotel living.
They had an interview in an hour. Time to get up. Justin thought that the rushed part of being a celebrity was the worst; he always had to get up and go somewhere.
Lance, as he was getting out of bed, mumbled something else in Russian. Justin cocked his head. "What does that mean?"
"Oh." Lance grabbed a towel. "Just, 'I need a shower'." He looked at Justin for a long moment, eyes completely serious and face unreadable. Lance added, "You wanna join me?"
Justin jumped up. He did.
read in a magazine
"Have you even discussed it?"
Justin glared at JC, and then softened his gaze. JC wasn't Chris, who would say anything to get a reaction. He was genuinely concerned. "No, actually."
"Are you going to?"
Justin sat down, thinking about the six months of training, of Lance flying to Moscow last week. He'd probably miss Lance a lot, once they were apart, but right now it seemed like everywhere they went, more people were trying to tell them what to do, what their things were. He snapped, "We're not going to talk about it."
JC flinched. He didn't know whether Justin was referring to him and Justin, or Lance and Justin.
Justin added, "I'm excited for him." He was telling the truth.
letting your dreams come alive
"I'm fucking sick to death of all these space jokes. They just." Lance ran a hand through his hair. "They don't get it. I."
Justin said softly, "They're jealous. You're doing what you always wanted, that's the important thing, what you." He chuckled. "What you love."
Lance stared at Justin, mouth open. Justin stuffed two fingers in between Lance's lips, to distract him.
are they looking at you
JC put an arm on Joey. "He's coming back, you know. There haven't been any accidents on missions for a while. And he can't stay up there forever." Joey shook his head, mouth turned down, and JC put a hand to his own mouth. "Oh," he said softly. "Oh."
Joey shrugged off the arm, looking pensive. "I should have known."
JC nodded. Joey kept staring at Lance and Justin. JC said to him, "Sometimes you just don't."
Lance was brave, they both knew, in ways that most people weren't. Joey replied, "Justin's going to miss him."
JC nodded. "It'll be a first."
so reach up and touch the sky
Justin fiddled with his mic-stand. "How do you say, 'no, I'm not dancing with you' in Russian?"
Lance sighed. "Justin--"
Justin looked off to the side of the stage, eyes vacant. "No, forget it."
Lance put his hand on the mic-stand. "Justin."
Justin shrugged, licking his lips. "Blow job in the dressing room?"
Lance smiled, shaking his head. "Jesus." They nodded to Chris, and walked off the stage, leaving the other three to deal with the pre-soundcheck crap. Justin pulled the curtain on their dressing area, and then grabbed Lance's belt-loops.
Justin said, "I bet I can make you come without taking off your pants."
Lance was already unbuckling his belt, unzipping his pants. Justin ran his palm down the bulge in Lance's underwear, and Lance rolled his hips forward. That was all the invitation Justin needed-- he sat on his chair and pulled Lance's hips forward, pulled his underwear down far enough to get his mouth on Lance's cock. Cock, cock, cock, Justin thought, and couldn't remember it in Russian.
Lance stumbled backwards, a little bit, as he sucked, and started tingling. He could hear Justin humming, and his body started thrumming, the backs of his thighs getting sweaty. Somewhere in the distance, JC and Joey were singing the chorus, harmonising, "are they lookin' at you, hatin', saying oooh", and giggling.
Lance gasped, and came. Justin swallowed. Lance ran his hand over Justin's head, and this time, Justin bowed into the touch, zipping Lance back up. Justin murmured, "How was that?"
Lance whistled, cheeks flushed and shiny, and sat down on Justin's lap. Justin protested, laughing. "Hey man!" He shut up quickly when Lance kissed Justin's lips, gently, and then licked them, licked the roof of Justin's tongue, licked up the last taste of himself on Justin's teeth. Justin shuddered.
Lance put a hand on the back of Justin's neck, and pressed gently, Justin falling easily to lean on him. Lance felt sticky. Justin rubbed his cheek against his shoulder, and said, "We only have a few more minutes."
Lance looked at his watch. "We have enough." Justin shuddered again, and curled closer to him.