Justin wasn't sure when the post-show group sex had become a ritual. It just seemed as though they had always done it. But he knew that wasn't right, since he was pretty sure it never happened in Germany, when he was 16 and his mother was around.

He thought he could remember a time when they didn't always do it, but he had no idea how it had started. Which was odd, really. He would've thought he would remember something like that, but he didn't.

The whole thing was sort of commonplace. Not commonplace in the sense that it was boring, which it sure as hell wasn't, but just in the sense that it all seemed very normal. Justin was aware that it wasn't normal. That most people, especially most straight people, didn't go through a period of time each year where, several nights a week, they had sex with their four best friends. But then again, most of Justin's life didn't fit in with what most people did.

So the group sex didn't bother him. He considered it a form of release and an odd group bonding experience. At the end of each show, they were all always on such a high, that there wasn't much else that could bring them down. It was interesting, really, how the energy of 60,000 screaming fans pretty much went straight to the groin. All that energy in the air so easily became sexual energy.

And it was a ritual. At the end of each show, they'd all file into the Quiet Room, and as per usual, no one else was allowed in. Typically, JC started it. Partially because he was the quickest to get undressed, and partially, Justin thought, because he had the most urgent need.

JC would vary who he started with, and there wasn't much rhyme or reason to it, as far as any of them could tell. Perhaps it was related to the other person's level of undress, but who knew. It didn't really matter. With the exception of the person involved, his routine hardly varied. Once he was undressed, he would slide up behind you, snaking his arms around to your front. He'd nibble along your neck, and slowly help you out of whatever clothing you were still wearing.

Things, of course, would progress from there, with the rest of the group following suit. Hand jobs, blowjobs, petting. All of these were acceptable. Kissing on the mouth happened occasionally, but frequently it just seemed too weird. Actual fucking, however, was the limit. No one ever even thought of going there.

Or at least, they didn't mention it if they did. And Justin was definitely not thinking about it. No, not at all. He was straight, and straight boys didn't think about stuff like that. Certainly not.

Justin mentally smacked himself, when he realised he was staring at Lance's ass. They were on stage, for fuck's sake. In the middle of walking down the fucking catwalk. He was supposed to be concentrating on singing "Selfish", not on Lance's ass. And why the fuck was he staring at Lance's ass, anyway? He had the hottest girlfriend in the world, and he was sitting here thinking about how nice Lance Bass looked in his sparkly starburst-studded jeans. What the fuck? Justin decided not to think about those things anymore. It worked for about three minutes.

When Justin first told Britney about the group sex, he thought she would freak. He didn't really want to tell her, but he knew she'd find out, and besides, telling her just seemed like the right thing to do.

"Justin, honey, you kinda forgot one important fact."

Justin shot her a slightly confused look.

"I get up on a stage every night too. I know what it's like. I don't know that I would've immediately expected this from you guys, but I can see why you do it."

"Huh."

"Besides, I'd rather it were them than random chicks you pick up along the way."

And that was the end of the conversation. Until Brit walked back into the room, smiling, to add, "And did you think I hadn't noticed how, uh, excited JC gets during shows? I'd been wondering how he dealt with that."

Lance began to wonder after about the fourth night. The fourth night in row where he found himself off in the corner of the room, making out with Justin, while Joey, Chris and JC took over the sofa.

It wasn't that he minded having Justin to himself, but it was a little odd. Pairing off did happen sometimes, just because it was easier that way. But it was always in a sort of haphazard manner, usually relating to whomever was closest. But now it seemed as if Justin was trying to keep Lance to himself.

But that was insane. There was no earthly reason for Justin to do this. For all practical purposes, the five of them were all the same. There was no reason not to just reach for the nearest dick.

Lance finally decided that either it was a coincidence or that Justin was on a weird "Lance kick" that he'd get over, much like when he'd eat PB&J every day until he got bored. Either way, Lance wasn't going to worry about it.

Chris sometimes wondered what would happen if one night, one of them just said, "Sorry guys, not tonight. I've got stuff to do." Or if someone's girlfriend decided it was weird and wouldn't let her man participate. So far it had never happened. And he hoped to god it never would. But the possibility was always lurking there, hanging out in the corner of the room, waiting to strike.

He didn't think they could continue it without anyone. It would feel like someone was missing, and oddly, Chris thought, it might feel like they were all cheating on the missing person.

And of course there was the fact that Chris had no idea how he'd ever get to sleep on a show night, without coming all over one of his bandmates.

Justin was on the phone with Britney when it happened. Not that he told her about it. And of course, this also allowed him to pretend that Britney was the reason it happened. Not that she was.

He was sitting in the corner of Lance's hotel room, because that was where he had been when his cell phone rang. In the meantime, Lance had gone off to take a shower. None of this was a problem. The problem began when Lance reappeared, clad in only a towel.

It wasn't like Justin hadn't seen Lance in a towel before. Fuck, it wasn't like he hadn't seen him naked and sucked his dick before. But the sight of Lance half-naked didn't usually get him... distracted.

"So Wade was saying that we really need to tighten up the choreography on 'The Game Is Over', 'cause it's..."

Justin's sentence got lost as he watched the movement of Lance's shoulder blades as he opened and closed drawers, figuring out what he was going to wear.

"Justin?"

"Yeah?"

"You were just telling me about Wade. "

"What?"

"Wade. You said he thinks the 'Game Over' choreography needs tightening?"

"Oh, right. Yeah, he thinks we're slipping in places. Like we're all afraid 'cause of Joe..."

At that moment, Lance dropped his towel to slip on his underwear. His back was turned to Justin, but that just meant that Justin's eyes were trained on Lance's smooth, round ass.

"Justin, are you okay?" Britney asked from over the phone.

"Uh, yeah, fine. Why do you ask?"

"Because you can't seem to finish a sentence. "

"Oh, sorry. There's just a bunch of people in the room, so I can't concentrate. Hang on, let me go somewhere else."

Justin all but sprinted back to his own room. All the while telling himself it was Britney's sexy voice that was doing this to him. It had to be.

But later, when he'd convinced Britney to have phone sex, he realised he had to stop lying to himself. It was right around when Britney told him to imagine he was kissing her breasts, and all he could see were Lance's well-defined pecs. And when he came, just from the thought of licking Lance's nipple, he knew he was a goner.

After Justin's sudden sprint from his room, Lance continued getting dressed. Ordinarily, Justin fleeing his room looking hot and bothered while on the phone with Britney wouldn't phase him.

What struck him was that it sounded like Britney didn't know he was getting excited, and that he wasn't going to tell her. It just seemed like an odd thing not to tell your girlfriend. Unless Justin, in a rare moment of propriety, was sparing Lance from having to hear it.

The only problem with that theory was that Justin lied to Britney about why he was leaving the room. It was all very strange. But then again, Justin was acting very strange these days.

There was one explanation that popped into the back of Lance's mind every once in while, but it still seemed a ridiculous notion. Plus, Lance was scared shitless of it.

"Chris, are we gay?"

At that moment, Chris was really wishing that the bunks had walls instead of just curtains. "Go to sleep, dude."

"No man, I'm serious here."

"Justin, we are not gay."

"You don't think the fact that I've given you... I don't even know how many hand jobs makes us gay?"

Chris finally sat up in his bunk. "Look, it's not like any of us ever mess around with guys at any other times."

"What?"

"Like, the after-show thing is different. It doesn't count. Special circumstances and all that."

"Really?" Justin asked.

"Yeah. I mean, if you were like, constantly thinking about fucking Lance or something, then you might be gay. But I really don't think you have anything to worry about."

"Heh. Yeah. Right. Of course. 'Night."

"'Night J."

Lance was taken aback when he first felt it again. He was sitting at the table in the common room, eating breakfast, when Justin slid in next to him, his upper arm brushing against Lance's. It wasn't strong, just the faintest little electric feeling, but enough to put a smile on Lance's face, and make his stomach flutter. He was struck by it, because it had been a long time since a touch from Justin could do that to him.

Lance probably fell in love with Justin the first time they met. Of course, it took him a while to figure that out. He did remember walking off the plane in Orlando, and seeing the sign Lynn and Justin were holding up for him and his mother. At the time he was struck by how flawless Justin's face was. Lance didn't think he had ever seen a kid as beautiful as Justin.

They hit it off pretty well as friends, but most of it was just because they were the two youngest, and both still had to deal with their mothers and school and what-not. But it didn't take long for Lance to realise that he found Justin attractive from more than just an aesthetic perspective.

So Lance was confused as to why all this was starting up again. And he wasn't overly thrilled with it either. It would completely fuck up the group if anyone found out he was gay. And it would be even worse if Justin knew he was attracted to him.

About halfway through breakfast Justin reached across Lance to grab the pitcher of milk. He smelled like soap and morning and Justin, and when he turned to Lance and flashed his smile, Lance couldn't form a coherent thought for a least a minute.

When he was finally able to move again, Lance got up and ran out of the room like he was being chased by a pack of dogs. The four guys left at the table were completely bewildered.

Justin had it bad. He didn't how or why or where it had come from, but he most definitely had a thing for Lance. And there was only one thing he could do at this point.

"Yo, Lance."

"hmm?"

Justin looked around the room. Three other pairs of eyes had looked up at him, but not Lance's. "Uh, never mind, I'll catch you later." And he ran out of the room.

Chris began to wonder if there were invisible dogs following the tour.

Lance caught up with Justin in the Quiet Room before the show. "Did you want to talk about something, J?"

"Not now, we've got a show to do."

"After?"

Justin looked around the room, smiling as he looked over at the sofa he and Lance had been on the night before. "Yeah, right," he said sarcastically.

And then after the show, for the first time in two weeks, Justin went after Chris. But even with Joey's dick in his hand, and JC sucking him off, Lance still noticed that Justin was watching him the entire time.

It was two more days before Justin tried again. The knock on Lance's hotel room door was soft and hesitant. Lance almost didn't hear it.

Eyeing Lance at the table, G4 open, and papers spread all around, he started to back out the door, mumbling something about, "Oh, you're working, I'll come back later."

Lance stood up and grabbed Justin by the shoulders, preventing his flight. "It's nothing that can't wait. Sit down," Lance said, sitting on the bed himself.

"S'okay, I think I'll stand." At which point Justin started pacing, but still didn't say anything.

"Uh, Justin? I may be good, but I don't read minds."

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

After another silence, Justin finally said, "Here's the thing," and then paused again. "Okay, so like. I've been noticing stuff lately."

"Stuff?"

"Yeah, stuff."

"You're gonna have to be a little more specific than that."

"Stuff like, um, like that you're really fucking hot."

Before he could stop himself, Lance muttered "Shit," just loud enough for Justin to hear.

"Oh fuck, I knew this was a bad idea--" But Lance grabbed Justin again before he could run out of the room.

"No, J, wait. That's not it. Could you hold still for one fucking second? Please?"

Justin finally sat down on the sofa, but his knees were still bouncing like Chris' in an interview.

"Justin, are you gay?"

"Fuck no!" and then "Well, maybe," and then "Shit, I don't know."

Lance just stared at the floor for a bit, and then up at the ceiling for a bit and then shook his head.

"Shit, you're weirded out, aren't you? Fuck..." Justin muttered.

"Actually, that's about the last thing I am right now."

The thing about Justin was that he was a persistent little fucker. On the fourth day of Justin calling him every few hours, Lance finally answered.

"I have Caller ID, you know."

"Yep, and you even have nice little record of how many times I've called. I was hoping to achieve stalker status."

"Twenty calls in four days? I think you might've achieved it."

"So, I'm still not seeing the problem."

"Justin, I've told--"

"Yes, you've told me several times, and I still don't get it. I think you're hot. You think I'm hot. Apparently, have thought so for quite some time. You're gay. I'm... well, I know I want to fuck you. Tell me again what's missing?"

Absolutely nothing, unfortunately, Lance thought. "Justin, what about the other guys. What about the after-show stuff?"

"What about it?"

"You don't think it'll be a little weird? You don't think they'll be freaked out?"

"Dude, you were gonna tell them?? Jesus fuck, no wonder you don't want to do this!"

"We can't just lie to them."

"Why not? Why would they have to find out?"

"Justin, you really are impossible, you know that?"

"Yeah, but I'm cute though." Lance couldn't help but smile.

He was just about to maybe cave in, when there was a knock at the door. "Oh fuck, hang on. Someone's here."

Lance opened the door, to find Justin, in jeans and no shirt, cell phone in hand, smiling at him.

"You fucking bastard," Lance muttered, as Justin pushed into the room, letting the door shut behind him.

Lance already knew how Justin kissed, but this was different. This was real. There was nothing tentative about it. Nothing that was hesitant and wondering if it was "all right". In fact, Lance was pretty sure that he had never been kissed like this before.

Justin was hot and insistent, pushing Lance toward the bed while already yanking at his shirt. Lance wanted to slow down and enjoy, but at the same time wished it were happening even faster.

When they hit the bed, Justin was clawing at Lance's khakis, while Lance was having just as much difficulty with Justin's fly.

With Justin in his bed, stripped down to his boxers, Lance was having a very hard time remembering why he'd thought this might be a bad idea. His tongue trailed along Justin's stomach, just above the elastic of his boxers. Justin was twitching, obviously trying not to thrash. Lance reached up and yanked down the underwear in a swift motion, then sat back and half-watched, half-helped Justin disentangle them from his feet.

Resting on his heels, he stared down at Justin's naked body. Justin's hand was absently sliding along his own cock as he stared back up at Lance.

"Hey J? Are we gonna do this now?"

"Wow, my seduction tactics must really need some work man, 'cause if you're still not sure..."

"Shut up, dickhead, I didn't mean... this," Lance said, gesturing vaguely at their naked forms. He reached across the bed and pulled a condom out of the pocket of Justin's jeans. He tossed it onto Justin's chest. "I meant this."

Justin grinned at the same moment the panic hit his eyes. It was an endearing combination of facial expressions, but Lance had no idea what it meant. Justin picked up the condom packet and started to fidget with it. "Uh, sure. I guess."

Lance flopped down next to him on the bed. His fingers traced circles across Justin's chest. "We don't have to."

"No, no. I want to. And uh, we've sorta done everything else already."

Lance laughed and rolled on top of him, kissing a line from Justin's ear to his mouth. He could definitely get used to this.

Over the next few days, Justin and Lance spent a lot of their time fucking. A lot. Actually, they didn't do much else. One of the afternoons they told the other guys they were going to the movies, but instead went back to Justin's room for much longer than two hours.

Before they set off for the next city, Justin whined to Joey that Chris was driving him nuts and could he please please please switch buses with him?

"Dude, if you don't even want to be around him, why would I wanna be?"

"Joey, please, I'm gonna kill him. Do you really want be an accessory to a homicide that you could've prevented?" Justin batted his eyes in an attempt to look girly and cute.

Joey just groaned. "Well, I suppose Chris' death probably would mean the end of my career, so... What's in it for me?"

"Huh?"

"Me. What do I get out of giving up my nice quiet bus, which has all my stuff, I might add, to instead deal with the ridiculous banter that is the Chris-JC interaction?"

"Um. Next show. After, I'll give you the best blowjob of your life."

"Deal."

Justin had said it without even really thinking about it. When they were on tour, they were always promising sexual favours. No big deal. But suddenly he realised what he'd said. Lance was right. This was going to be weird. Fuck.

But for the time being, Justin decided to push this worry to the back of his mind and enjoy the fact that he had an entire day ahead of him, alone on a bus with Lance.

"Dude, you wrote a song about me!"

"What if I did?"

"You wrote a fucking song about me!"

"Some people would be flattered by that."

"Let me try this one more time. You. Wrote. A fucking song about me!"

"Actually, it's not just about you, it's about all of us. And it took you long enough to figure it out."

"You don't think that's a little weird?"

"Gimme a break, I was inspired by the moment. It's not like anyone's gonna know it was you. Or what it's about."

"You fucking called me 'Shorty'!"

"I also called you 'she'."

"Yeah, well I'm not even gonna start with that one."

"Look, Chris, I don't understand why this is such a big deal..."

"How the fuck am I supposed get up on stage in front thousands of screaming teenagers and sing that song now that I know it's about fucking you against a wall in the Quiet Room?"

"You did just fine with Digital Get Down," JC said, smirking.

"Shut Up."

"And you'll get to do it again at the end of the show." JC was still smiling.

"That's not helping."

Justin wasn't sure how many times they'd fucked as they drove across the Midwest. He did know that he'd barely gotten dressed the entire time. Every time they stopped for food, or something that involved getting off the bus and being with the other guys, they had to scramble around trying to find their clothes. They just hoped to God none of the other guys actually wanted to get on their bus. There might have been some raised eyebrows over the general mess and, well, condom wrappers strewn about.

They were late to sound check the next day because they were making out in a stadium bathroom. Justin felt like a fourteen-year-old girl at school, making out with her cute boyfriend in the boy's room, hoping they wouldn't get caught by a teacher. He couldn't help but think that the Quiet Room would be a more comfortable place to make out, but they sure as hell couldn't risk that.

Lance was licking his neck when he decided to broach the topic. "Uh, Lance? What are we gonna do about later?"

Lance pulled back a little, his face showing that he'd rather be licking than talking. "What do you mean?"

"You know, later. After the show."

"What do you want to do?"

"Well, I might've made the whole issue moot anyway..."

"Oh?"

"I sorta promised Joey a blowjob in exchange for switching buses."

Lance just started laughing, leaning against the bathroom wall for support. "Well, that does sorta solve the issue doesn't it."

"You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"I don't know, I thought it might be weird that I was promising sexual favours when we're all, you know."

"Justin, it's what we do. Why would that change?"

"I dunno, I just though it might be a little weird is all."

"It'll be fine. Don't worry."

And later, after the show, it was fine. Except that the whole time he was sucking Joey's dick, Justin couldn't keep his mind off Lance. Couldn't help but wish that it was Lance he was touching.

And Lance couldn't help but feel a small pang of jealousy as he watched Justin and Joey. Never mind that JC's mouth was on his own cock, and Chris' lips were working their way down his spine.

The following morning while Lance and Justin were having sex in Lance's hotel room, JC, Joey, and Chris were having breakfast, wondering where the other two were.

"What do you think they're up to?" Joey asked.

JC looked up at him, barely awake. "What do you mean?"

"Well they've been pretty much inseparable the past three days. And every time you try to talk to one of them, they're pretty dazed. And looking for the other one."

"Yeah, no shit," Chris said. "I've been trying whup Justin's ass at Playstation, but he keeps sayin' he doesn't wanna play. What's up with that?"

"I hadn't really noticed anything," JC mumbled.

Chris looked over at Joey. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Maybe they're just working on something."

"What, C, you mean secret song-writing meetings at--" Chris checked his watch, "--10:30am?"

Joey looked warily at Chris. "Wait a minute, what do you think they're up to?"

"Isn't it obvious? They're fucking."

JC spewed coffee across the table. "What?!"

"What else could it be, man? The out-of-it looks, the bus-sharing, the fact that they're late for everything. And let's not forget dear Lance staring at Justin all last night."

"Wait, you mean. While he was. With me?"

"Yep."

"But dude," Joey said, "that doesn't make any sense. They're both straight! And Justin's got Britney."

"Yeah, well, things change."

JC shook his head. "I dunno man. I'm gonna wait and see."

"You do that. You'll see."

And at that moment, Justin and Lance appeared in the doorway, both looking slightly dishevelled. They remembered to stop holding hands just before any of the other guys turned around.

That night, on the way to the Quiet Room after the show, Lance caught hold of Justin's hand.

"Hey there," he whispered in Justin's ear, the roar of the stadium still echoing outside. "What do you say we make it just you and me tonight?"

"What, and ditch the rest of the guys? Won't they suspect--"

"No doofus, I didn't mean all together. I just meant, you know. That when we're in there, we just make it us, you know? Like you used to do before."

Justin smiled. "You noticed that, huh?"

"You weren't exactly being subtle there, babe."

Justin glanced around quickly, and when he saw no one was looking, gave Lance a quick kiss on the cheek. "I think I can cope with having you all to myself."

When they got into the Quiet Room, they discovered that the others had made it easy for them. Or else JC had just gotten impatient. But either way, JC was already halfway through stripping Chris, while Joey was working on JC. Nobody even noticed when Justin and Lance made their way to the other sofa.

The next day JC stopped Chris in the hall. "You're right, they're totally fucking," he said.

Chris poked JC in the chest. "See, I told you!"

JC smiled. "You see the way they--"

"It was like there was no one else in the room."

"Yeah. It was kinda cool, actually."

Chris grinned as he said, "Heh. I was just thinking that too." Just then he spotted Joey walking down the hallway towards them and shouted, "Hey, Joe! You see--"

"Definitely fucking," Joey called back.

"You care?" JC asked him when he got closer.

"Nope," Joey said. "You?"

JC shook his head. "Nope."

Concern crossed Joey's face for a moment when he asked, "Hey guys? What about Brit?"

Chris shrugged. "Justin'll figure that out when the time comes. "

And so it went for the next couple of weeks. On the whole, the post-show sex didn't change much. Sometimes, Justin and Lance would have nights where it was just the two of them, and the others guys didn't seem to exist. But more often, they would go with the usual system of reaching for the nearest dick. Not that that stopped them from watching each other, of course. Which often made for even more fun back at the hotel.

It was about a week before Challenge for the Children that Justin started freaking out. At first only Lance noticed it, but pretty soon the others caught on too.

Joey grabbed Lance in the stadium corridor after lunch one day, after a particularly lovely one of Justin's outbursts. "Dude, what the hell is wrong with him?"

"Huh? What?"

"Lance, you know what I'm talking about. Justin."

"Oh right, I dunno. He's just edgy I guess."

"Yeah, well fix it, okay?"

"Why me?"

"Because somehow, I have the feeling you're the only one who can." And with that, Joey stalked off mumbling something about finding JC.

Lance knew exactly what was wrong with Justin, but didn't really want to think about it too much. Nor did he really want to think about why Joey thought he was the only one who could fix it. But nonetheless, Lance went in search of Justin.

He found him in the Quiet Room, curled up in an armchair in the corner, rocking ever so slightly. He seemed to barely notice Lance when he walked in.

"You wanna talk about it?" Lance asked.

"Not really," Justin said, without even looking up.

Lance sat down on the arm of the chair, resting his hand on the back of Justin's neck. He thumbed gentle circles into the spot where his neck met his shoulder. When Justin turned to look up at him, Lance kissed him gently on the lips. "It's Britney, isn't it?

Justin nodded, clearly fighting to keep the tears from flowing. "I just. I just don't know what to say to her, you know?"

"Yeah."

"And even worse, I'm gonna have to see her, and there are going to be cameras around, and we're going to have to pretend we're happy and that nothing's wrong. Lance, this is going to kill her. What am I going to do?"

"You just gotta be honest, that's all."

"I just don't want to hurt her."

"I don't think you have much choice."

"But God. I love her. I really do, just--" Justin paused, resting his head against Lance's chest. He snaked his arm around Lance's waist and hugged him tight. "Just not as much as I love you."

Lance had never before felt so happy and so guilty simultaneously. He leaned down and kissed the top of Justin's head. His arm moved to Justin's side and he held on like he was never letting go. "I love you too. So, so much." And after a while he added, "And I love her too. But we have to tell her, J. 'Cause this is worse."

Lance felt Justin's tears begin to seep through his thin t-shirt.

Challenge for the Children and the whole weekend in Vegas were awkward and weird but they got through it. Justin knew he couldn't wait, and told Britney about Lance the first night they were there.

At first she got angry and upset and swore she was never going to talk to either of them again. But during the actual basketball game, she started to warm up, and even appeared friendly to both of them. Neither of them were quite sure why.

Months later, she would tell them it was because she saw them together and could see how much they loved each other, and how happy they were. She said that for as much as she felt like she was dying inside, she knew it was right. She said that ultimately, that was what helped her get through it. That and the cute dancer guy who turned out not to be gay after all.

Chris burst into JC's room looking for someone who would play Madden 2001 with him. He found JC at his keyboard, headphones on and sheet music scattered about. Joey was sitting on the bed, surrounded by comic books. Chris wasn't terribly surprised when neither of them wanted to play.

JC gave him a weak smile. "Why don't you get Justin to play with you?"

"Because I don't know where he is. And since I don't know where Lance is either, I can only assume they're off fucking somewhere, and really, that's not something I wanna go looking for."

"Good point."

"I thought so." Chris sat down on the sofa and then flopped backwards, throwing his hands over head. "Fuck man, I want my best friend back."

JC took off his headphones and turned toward Chris. "When do you think they're going to tell us, anyway?"

"Fuck if I know, but I'm starting to get a little pissed about it, you know? It's not like I actually care or anything. And if he'd just fucking tell me, I'd feel like I could steal him away once in while."

"Maybe they're just waiting for the right time..."

"C, it's been like, a month!"

Joey glanced up from the comic he was reading. "I was just figuring that Justin wanted to tell Britney before they told us."

"Why?"

"I don't know, but I figured there must be some reason why Lance

"Whatever. And it's not even like it matters anyway, since Brit obviously knows, and they still haven't told us. Fuckers."

"Aw, come on Chris, you can't get mad at them like that. It's obviously been hard for them."

Chris snorted at JC. "Right. So hard that they have to spend all their time fucking. Right. Jeez, I just want them to be fucking honest. Hell, I would've said something as soon as we figured it out, but I didn't want to freak them out. Fucking hell, I'm saying something tomorrow."

"Chris--"

"Forget it man, I'm gonna do it. 'Cause at this point, I'm pissed off." And with that, Chris got up and left. JC hoped it was just to go play Madden by himself.

Justin still couldn't believe it happened. They should've been more careful. He couldn't believe they'd been so stupid. In the fucking Toy Room. They were making out in the Toy Room.

But he couldn't help it. Lance was just looking so hot and no one was around really and it was just one kiss. With tongue, sure, but just kissing.

When Chris stormed in, they flew to opposite ends of the room, as if the door was a trigger mechanism for some spring between their chests. Justin looked up at Chris, hoping hoping hoping it would be all right. But the minute he saw Chris' face he knew it wouldn't be. Fuck.

"Would you two just fucking quit it already? I know, okay? We all know. And it's fucking weird." At first Chris just stood there, looking like he was expecting them to say something. When neither of them did, he added, "And I want my best friend back." And turned around and left, door slamming behind him.

Justin looked across at Lance, who was sitting on the other couch. "What the fuck are we going to do?"

Lance shook his head. "I have no clue." And then softer: "No fucking clue."

Justin sat a blinked for a moment. "So I guess this is what you meant when you were worried but it fucking things up?"

"Pretty much."

"We should probably just cool it then, huh?" Justin asked.

"Yeah, I guess."

And with that, Lance got up and left the room. Justin lay back on the couch for a long time, not even realising he was crying.

That night things were just weird. The show had been off. Each one of them missed a cue at one point or another. Nothing big enough for the audience to notice, but enough to piss them off so that by the end, they weren't even enjoying what they were doing.

They headed back to the Quiet Room on autopilot. It was what they did every night, no reason for it to change. Never mind that JC and Joey were the only two members of the group who were even on speaking terms.

When they got into the room, Joey looked over at JC wondering what he was going to do. It was pretty clear that JC had no idea. So Joey walked over to JC and licked his neck, allowing JC to unbutton his shirt. It wasn't long before Justin was beside JC, sliding his hand down to unzip JC's pants. Joey was pretty sure Justin was only doing this to avoid being with either Chris or Lance.

Halfway through the three-way jerk-fest between he, Justin and JC, in which they hadn't even bothered to take off most of their clothing, Joey glanced over at Chris and Lance. Lance was sucking Chris' cock, but neither of them looked like they were enjoying it very much.

When it was over, they headed for the buses without saying a word. On the way, Joey saw Justin shoot Lance an inquisitive look. Lance just shook his head in response. Joey had no idea what that meant.

A couple days later Justin knocked on Chris' door to see if he wanted to play basketball on the half-court by the hotel pool. Chris shrugged and agreed. He was still mad at Justin, but hey, this was what he had asked for, right?

"You know, 'Riddle' was a really dumb song," Chris said, completely out of the blue, about halfway through the game.

Justin just stopped and looked at him. "What?"

"Sorry, I've just had it in my head all morning for some reason, and I'm realising how incredibly stupid it was."

"Yeah, it really was."

"I mean, it doesn't even make any sense!"

"Maybe that was the riddle." Justin smiled at his own joke, and Chris tried to resist, but pretty soon they were both laughing hysterically. Chris tried to shoot the ball into the hoop, but missed so completely it only made things worse. Eventually, they were both sitting in the middle of the court, doubled over with laughter, unable to really do anything useful.

Over the next the few days, Chris and Justin went back to their normal routine. They played basketball, they went to the movies, they played Madden 2001. And of course, they put on concerts and had group sex.

So of course, Chris caught on pretty quickly to the fact that Justin and Lance weren't even really speaking anymore, much less spending all their time fucking. So one drunken night, in the VIP room of a club that looked like the VIP of every other club, he subtly asked him about it.

"So what happened? Lance suddenly forget how to fuck?"

"What?"

"You know, you and the blond boy wonder. You're not so tight anymore, if you'll pardon the expression."

Justin's face dropped instantly, and a sober Chris would've realised that he'd crossed the line. This Chris was loosely aware that something was maybe amiss.

Justin just mumbled, "Yeah, we stopped doing that."

"Why? Wait, were you guys just fucking, because it seemed like you were pretty into each other."

"Shut up," Justin said, too abruptly. "What the hell do you care anyway? I thought you'd be fucking happy."

"Why the fuck should I be happy?"

"Why else? Lance and I stopped doing our 'freaky gay sex thing' and you got your best friend back."

"The hell, Justin? I don't give a shit if you and Lance are fucking. Hell, I couldn't care if you skipped naked through fields of daisies holding hands and announced your love on TRL." Chris paused, looking down at his drink. "Okay, so the daisies thing would be a little weird." He smirked and continued. "Seriously man, I was just pissed off that you didn't tell me. I thought you were my best friend."

"I am your best friend!"

"Then why the fuck didn't you tell me?"

"We thought you guys would be weirded out. Because of the whole after-show thing."

"Um, dude. That doesn't make any sense."

"Well, like, it was Lance's thing, really. Because he's been gay forever but never told us, because he thought we'd think he was getting off on having sex with all of us."

"You mean, he wasn't? Why do I suddenly feel insulted?"

"No man, not like that. 'Cause like, the post-show thing is different. It's all about release and shit. He thought we'd be creeped."

"Whatever. So what happened? He just started mackin' on you one day?"

"Shit, no!" Justin smiled. "I started mackin' on him."

At that point Chris just burst out laughing. "You two are the strangest fucking people I've ever met." When he saw Justin's face drop, he quickly added, "Dude, don't get me wrong, I think it's cool. We all do actually. You just shoulda told us. I mean, we figured it out in like, the first week. Y'all were not exactly subtle."

Justin's face turned scarlet, but he was grinning uncontrollably.

"Oh, gross man," Chris quipped. "I so didn't want to think about that. Why don't you just go find your boyfriend and tell him you guys can start having sex again."

Justin's grin broadened and he started to get up from the table. Chris added, "Although you guys might want to tell JC and Joey about it too. And while I'm lecturing, I'll add this: Could you also maybe, in between getting your freak on, once in while, find some time to hang out with little old me?"

Justin leaned over and patted Chris on the head. "Yes, Dad." He flashed Chris a smile, and headed off to go find Lance. And then Joey and JC.

The concert the next night went perfectly. The audience loved it, and they hit every mark. They were all flying high by the time they got back to the Quiet Room.

Chris stood in front of Lance in the middle of the room, unzipping Lance's pants. Justin was slumped into a big comfy chair in the corner.

Lance gasped as Chris' hand closed around his cock. Chris threw Justin a wry smile as he said, "Hey Justin, I'm gonna give your boyfriend the best blowjob he's ever had."

"Only if I can watch," Justin replied.

Lance was laughing as he said, "Joe, JC, you wanna get over there an make sure he's not just watching?"

Fifteen minutes later, Justin was coming into JC's mouth, with his hand on Joey's cock.