Justin was sure the others would notice. Pretty damn positive of it. It had to be written all over his face. He'd been kissing a guy. The minute he walked into the room, Chris would look up at him and say, "Dude, Nick Carter? The hell?" And then they'd all laugh at him and he'd have to run away and hide. So he thought he'd just skip the embarrassment and go directly to the running away and hiding.

Today was definitely the day his life took a turn for the weird. Nick Carter. Twenty minutes ago, he'd been kissing Nick Carter. And if he really wanted to be honest with himself, it was more like making out with Nick Carter. In a closet. For about an hour. There might've also been a hand job and a blow job, but Justin thought he'd just ignore that part for right now.

He'd just been kissing a guy. And there was no way in hell he could ever talk to Chris again, because he'd know.

He had an elaborate plan to avoid Chris. Ingenious, even. And very, very clever. His plan was not to go any place already occupied by Chris. Ever again. The plan might have worked too. Except that when Justin got back to his hotel room, Chris was sprawled out on his bed, playing Grand Theft Auto on Justin's laptop.

"Shit," Justin muttered, and walked back out the door.

Or at least, he would have walked back out the door, if Chris hadn't smiled at him and said, "Where have you been this afternoon?"

Instead he turned and ran out the door.

Justin realised that Chris had caught up with him right about when Chris jumped on his back and sent them both crashing to the ground.

"Ow," Justin said to a fairly rough hotel hallway carpet.

"Wimp, I didn't hit you that hard. I'm not hurting at all."

"Yeah, well, you had someone to cushion your fall." Justin realised that he had two options: continue speaking with a mouthful of rug, or turn over and get a bit more cozy with Chris than he really wanted. He opted for intimacy with the rug.

Until Chris sniffed him and said, "Justin? Have you been--" and then Justin thought of a third option and flexed his back and threw Chris to floor beside him.

When he tried to make another break for it, Chris grabbed him by the ankle and shouted, "You got laid! Admit it, you did, didn't you?"

Justin flushed crimson and tried to walk away, but Chris seemed to have a death grip on his leg. This wasn't going to be easy.

Justin tried to yank his foot away from Chris and sprint down the hall. Next thing he knew, he was lying on the ground again. On his back. With Chris sitting on him. Straddling his stomach.

Justin sighed and gave up.

Chris looked down at him and said, "You're not going anywhere until you tell me who she was."

Justin turned his head and examined the moulding. It didn't match either the carpet or the wallpaper.

Chris grabbed his chin, forcing Justin to look at him. "Because obviously she's either really skanky or really cool, or she's like, my mom, and can I just say eeewww on that one, and you better not be fucking my mom or any of my sisters, because I will kick your ass, Timberlake--"

Justin was about to put his hand over Chris' mouth, until he remembered where his hand had been recently and opted for just interrupting. "Look, I didn't get laid, okay?"

Chris just stared down at him with a skeptical look.

"Well, not really, anyway." Justin muttered.

Chris threw his hands above his head, victorious. "Ha! I knew it! So who was she?"

Justin tried desperately to think of a witty response, but just ended up blushing furiously.

"Dude, who? Man, there were like, a million and four cool people at that thing this morning, it could be anyone.... Wait! I know!"

Oh, fuck, Justin thought.

"Was it Alicia Keys? Oh man, that's so cool! She's so fucking hot, and you've had your eye on her for--"

Justin burst out laughing. "It wasn't Alicia Keys, man."

"No? Okay, let me think." Chris scratched his forehead. "Wait, I got it! It's so obvious, why didn't I think of this sooner?"

Justin shot him a quizzical look, and then Chris started laughing hysterically and rolled off of Justin. "It's Nelly, isn't it?"

Later, Justin would realise that he should've just started laughing they way he did with the Alicia Keys comment, but instead he panicked. And blushed. And got up and walked away.

Justin was sitting on his bed staring at his cell phone when he heard the knock on his door. He gave Nick's number one last look and flipped the phone shut. "Yeah?" he shouted.

"Justin, it's me." He got up off the bed to open the door for Chris.

"What do you want?"

Chris pushed past him and into the room. "I wanted to apologize for being such a shit earlier."

Well that was unexpected, Justin thought. "Nah, it's all right. I sorta flipped out on you."

Chris turned around and looked at him. "Yeah, about that."

Justin stared at Chris for a moment. Chris was obviously expecting some sort of a response. Justin didn't really have one.

"Justin?" It was long and drawn out the way Chris said it. The way you do when you're getting impatient.

"What?" Justin was getting snippy. He knew he shouldn't be taking it out on Chris, but he couldn't help it.

"Jesus man, I'm just worried about you. Look at you. You're completely buggin' out."

Justin sat down on the bed and stared at his knees. "Yeah, I am."

"Justin, who was it?"

He looked up at Chris. "Honestly?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die"

"Yeah, well you better not be crossing your fingers too."

Chris help up his hands, fingers spread. "I promise I won't laugh."

Justin blushed scarlet and muttered, "Nick Carter."

Chris started coughing to suppress his laughter. "Seriously?"

"Shut up, man! You said you wouldn't laugh!"

"Naw, I'm not laughing. I mean, he's totally hot."

"Yeah, he really is."

Chris coughed one more time. "It's just that. Um, well. What happened to--"

Justin raised an eyebrow. "Swearing up and down that I was straight and that I would never, ever do anything with a guy because why would you want to when women were so clearly put on this earth for a reason?"

"Yeah, that."

They sit there in the dark for a while, sharing a cigarette. If the tabloids could see us now, Justin thinks. Nick leans over and kisses away Justin's smirk.

Justin smiled at Chris and said, "Well, you see, I met this boy...." And then he just started laughing. For the first time since he'd been in the closet with Nick. And when that phrase floated across his brain, he started laughing harder, until he was doubled over on the bed hysterical.

"Justin? You okay, man?"

Justin managed to stop laughing long enough to look over at Chris and see his confused expression. He sat back up on the bed. "You know what? I am. I'm totally fine. Well, probably not totally fine, but mostly fine. Fine enough, none-the-less."

"You wanna clue me in on the joke?"

"Dude, can't you just see it on the front page of The Star? They get this big-ass picture of Nick and I walking out of that closet at the Staples Center, looking all rumpled, smelling of sex and smoke-- and you know you'd be able to tell that in the picture-- The headline would read 'Closeted Boybanders Come Out!' It would be a lame-ass joke and they wouldn't even get it right and--"

"Do I even want to know how you and Nick ended up fucking in a closet at the Staples Center?"

Justin stood up and put his hand on Chris' shoulder. "That's a story for another day, my friend." And he wandered off to go call Nick.