It all started because JC and Joey were sick, turning the two man bus into a swamp of tissues and Nyquil. Lance switched over, loaded down with cds, clothes, books and all the accoutrements of business, including his laptop.

Chris liked to poke at Lance while he was working, leaning over and hitting random keys then hastily jumping back when Lance reached over to swat him. He'd sneak back up, bat at the other side of the keyboard, until Lance would give up and be social.

He found himself regretting the whole distraction thing when it was 12:30 at night and Lance was comfortably ensconced next to Justin, kicking ass in the methodical way that Chris had never quite mastered. He tried jumping at them, wrestling Lance for the controller, but they both started snarling at him and he quit, roaming aimlessly through the bus until he stopped in front of Lance's computer.

"Lance, man. Can I use your computer?"

Lance didn't even turn around. "No."

"Well, thanks then!" Chris seated himself in front of the laptop. The computer booted up. "Lance." Pause. "Lance! How do I go online?"

Lance never looked back. "Get away from my laptop, freak."

Chris nodded wisely to no one in particular. "Okay, I'll figure it out myself, then." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lance look back at him, heave a huge sigh and do something that paused the game and made Justin squawk.

Lance padded over, wrenching the laptop out of Chris's hands and giving him a hard stare. "You click here," clicking and waiting for the familiar buzz of the modem, "then you log on here," typing quickly, "and never *ever* use MSN. That's like advertising who you are."

Already heading back to his game, he paused. "If you break my keyboard. If you get a virus. If you spread my screen name to anyone. I will kill you. Death will not come fast enough. Understand?"

Chris nodded, already scanning the icons that Lance had as shortcuts on his desktop. He took a detour through Lance's email box, stuffed with incredibly detailed and dry business emails, shaking his head and muttering to himself about how boring Lance was.

Giving up on finding anything juicy on the hard drive, he opened Internet Explorer, pleased when google was the start page. He typed in Justin's name. Scrolling through the first ten sites, rolling his eyes at the fact that people had too much time, he clicked on a site proclaiming a fourteen year old girl to be the future Mrs. Justin Timberlake.

Laughing so hard that Lance turned around, Chris just waved a hand, gasping out "Justin. With bleached curls. Chick. Adonis of Love!"

Lance shook his head and Justin pelted him with a cushion. "Dude. At least I didn't have the fuckin' dreads."

Chris stopped laughing, throwing the cushion back. "Never speak disrespectfully of the dreads, ass." He stopped laughing though, typing in Lance's name.

After discovering that Lance was alternately the sexiest thing on the face of the planet and a scary weird sociopath, he was ready to quit. On a whim, though, Chris typed in his own name. Grinning happily, he scrolled down through the list of sites, pleased that so many people had sites devoted to him, muttering thanks that no one felt the need to proclaim herself to be the future Mrs. Kirkpatrick.

One caught his eye. "All about the FuLa?" He hmm'd, clicking and waiting for the page to load. He was ready to hit the back button when suddenly the pictures started appearing. The first one had him draped on Lance, the second was Lance staring at him with a look that Chris could swear was longing.

He mumbled "FuLa?" and clicked on the home link on the bottom of the page, hoping for an explanation. The explanation made him sit back in his chair, huffing out a quick breath. "A Chris/Lance shipper site?" He crinkled his brow and clicked on the stories link.

Five minutes later, he was staring spellbound. The first link he clicked opened a story that was breathtakingly explicit and shocking. He couldn't stop staring, couldn't stop reading. The next two were short and sweet and Chris laughed out loud at one particularly amusing anecdote.

The stories on the page were quickly exhausted and Chris debated a cold shower. Instead, keeping one eye on Lance and Justin, he chose the "Further Adventures" link, and blinked in astonishment at the list of recommendations that scrolled down the webpage.

"JoLa? Timbertrick? TrickC? Do these people have a masters in Secret Code or something?" Lance grunted a question at him, still mostly absorbed in the video game, and Chris grunted something equally non-committal back at him, clicking on something promising definitions to newbies.

"Aah. So that's what those names mean." He groped for his soda, not willing to tear his eyes away from the screen. "All of us? GSF! They're depraved!"

Justin mumbled, "You're the depraved one, man. Forget the stupid teenies and get me some football scores."

Chris clapped his hands to his cheeks, sure that he was blushing, but continued to read, mumbling out loud. "Aaaah. Pretty kitten, yes yes. Choey. Lamblove..." Casting an eye to where Lance and Justin were wrestling, Justin clearly displeased with the outcome of the game. "Yeah. I can see it."

Shaking his head, he glared at the screen. "No! I so can not see it!" He quickly disconnected and snapped the laptop closed. "I'm going to sleep."

He wasn't comforted by the ongoing wrestling match, or the soft grunting that followed him into the bunk

Chris was pumped, ready for their interview the next morning. He'd told himself that the hours he spent online were just entertainment, goofing around. They all did it sometimes, typing in each other's names and reading out the crazy things that people immortalized in multi-colored fonts on badly designed websites.

Joey looked slightly better, leaning into Lance and saying something that made Lance laugh and color slightly. Chris watched them, eyes opening when Lance leaned on Joey, when Joey's hands trailed up and down Lance's arm.

He shook his head, shocked by the JoLa, JoLa, JoLa that was beating in his mind. Joey was the quintessential straight man, with the stereotypical knocked up girlfriend and the equally stereotypical bimbo groupies in every town. Lance was more circumspect, but he also had his moments, the slick smile coupled with insincere politeness netting him his share of chicks.

Chris tried not to think about the fact that Joey showed more real warmth in one comforting swipe up and down Lance's arm, than with all his groupies put together, or the reality that Lance was really smiling, teeth white and flashing and his eyes crinkling happily.

It was just that the sites he found last night weren't over colored and overdone. The site layouts were more sedate, like they weren't calling attention to themselves, and the words were clever and quick, not cloying and overly dramatic. Their calmness led a bit of veracity to their claims, and he thought that maybe it disturbed him more or less than it should have.

He shrugged, trying to get himself interested in the interview again, when JC plopped down in the chair next to him, draping an arm around his chair. Chris smiled at JC, tearing his eyes away from the intimate nothingness of Lance and Joey.

"Feelin' better, dude?"

JC nodded, his smile bright and uncomplicated. "Joey's meds fixed me right up." He glanced over to where Joey was beaming at Lance. "Looks like he feels better too."

Chris swallowed, a quick, hard gulp, and reminded himself that Joey and Lance were best friends. "Yeah. Lots better."

JC giggled, and it snapped Chris out of his reverie. "You doing anything after this, C? Wanna do some computer shopping with me?" He waited for the hoots of laughter, since he'd been avoiding getting his own computer for what seemed like forever.

Instead JC's eyes lit up, and Chris remembered how much he loved shopping, even if it was just for computers. "Oh yes! Finally! We'll have fun, Chris! They've got all kinds of cool accessories for laptops!" He grinned happily at Chris. "If you pick one like mine, I can even set it up for you!"

Chris swore to himself that he wasn't thinking about pretty kittens at all.

An exhausting few hours later, Chris was set up, thankful for wireless internet access and the fact that he wasn't even blinking at how expensive it was. JC was beaming proudly at him, looking for all the world like a parent watching his baby take it's first steps.

"Jayce. I've used a computer before, y'know. It's just that now I don't have to bug you guys to borrow yours."

JC kept smiling, but he wandered off toward the back of the bus, calling out "Enjoy, man! Don't find too much porn or anything." He paused, turning around. "Don't forget, tonight we're going clubbing."

Chris nodded, absently, opening the C drive and making a few brief sweeps through the programs that were preloaded onto the hard drive. Looking over his shoulder, he opened Internet Explorer and set google.com as his start page.

He searched for the basic definitions page he'd found the night before, scrolling through lists of garbage until he finally found it. He started reading, bookmarking the pages he liked, reaching for his soda and sipping distractedly, ignoring Justin when he called them to dinner.

It took JC looming in front of him, peering curiously at the screen, before he realized that he'd somehow lost four hours, and it was time to shut the computer down. He looked back once, wishing that he could bail on their plans and just sit there paging through link after link.

Then JC bounced up to him, bare-chested and holding two black shirts up. "Pick one, Chris! Pick one! Hurry up, cause we've gotta get going, now." Poking at the one on the left, he watched JC retreat, eyes raking the curve of his spine. Muttering to himself, "They've got no clue, man. No words at all."

The club was like any one of a hundred they'd found all over the country. The lights were too bright in spots and too dim in others, the tables were metal and too awkward and sharp to lean into, and everyone looked the same. Chris regretted that there was no VIP lounge, not because he wanted to be snobbish and aloof, only because they often had comfortable furniture and dim comforting light.

The drinks were good, strong and crisp and he swallowed his down, eyes searching the floor. Girls, glittering with sparkles and too pretty smiles twined equally around each other and boys that were just as pretty and just as plastic. It was only by a miracle that Chris spotted JC and Justin.

When he did, his eyes flew open and his mouth dropped. They were flanked with hopeful girls, eyes seductive as they ran eager hands down their own bodies and wiggled, clearly intent on seducing one or both of his friends. That was ordinary, everyday even. But Chris didn't think he'd ever seen Justin and JC dance together quite like that, ignoring the small voice in his mind that suggested that maybe he'd never quite looked before.

They were staring into each others eyes, smiling. Justin moved a tiny bit away from JC, only to have JC follow him, grabbing his arm and twirling away. When Justin followed suit, JC tilted his head back, exposing the graceful arch of his neck and laughed, really laughed.

Chris shook his head, drinking down half of the new drink which had magically appeared by his hand. That was ordinary too, but he looked down, mumbling "JuC? What the fuck."

Lance leaned in, "Juicy? What's juicy?"

Chris didn't even bother trying to cover, just waved at his drink, even though it was clear and obviously contained no fruit products of any kind. It wasn't too long until he made his excuses and found his solitary way back to their buses.

He figured that he had a solid two hours before the rest of his friends would head back from the club, piling on the bus in a drunken clot and laughing at jokes that no one else would ever understand.

It was crazy to talk to himself, he knew, but he couldn't help muttering, while he waited for his computer to boot up. "I've just got to know, okay." He ran his fingers down the side of the plastic screen, still pleased with his purchase, even while he was absorbed in how quickly it loaded.

When he was sitting cross-legged on the bunk, laptop open before him, typing searches into google.com, he kept mumbling. "It's slash. And I'm actively searching it out. Kirkpatrick, you're losing it." He wanted to know, though, wanted to know if others saw it, the incandescent way that Justin and JC looked into each other.

As the list of sites scrolled past, he had his answer, and he started to read, long past the point of shock and quickly moving into shame. He'd started to critique, noting where authors didn't seem to know what they were talking about, and nodding approvingly at those who seemed to have taken things seriously.

When he saw a stray story labeled Timbertrick, he forgot what the pairing was, shivering when he saw that it was focused on him. After that first binge of stories about Lance with him, Chris had ignored those who focused on him, feeling oddly voyeuristic and disturbed in a way that he didn't think had to do with total strangers writing about him fucking his friends.

It was a captivating story, he thought, with Justin behaving sweetly and almost lovingly, and his odd biting wit neatly laid forth on the page. He'd forgotten how wrong it was until he was kissing Justin on the computer screen, fingers going places that he'd rarely even considered, while he squinted, absorbed in the words.

There was an odd feeling of unreality when Justin swayed onto the bus, JC holding him up and laughing like he only did when absolutely, truly smashed. Justin was stripping his shirt off, walking to the bathroom bare-chested and Chris licked his lips and shut the computer off, denying the fact that he was hard, achingly so.

When Joey laid JC down on the floor, rubbing his back until JC made purring grunts, arching his back into Joey's hands, Chris didn't feel the half-vertigo he'd felt before. He smiled, thinking JoeC, JoeC, JoeC, and realized that the thought of them together made him feel warm and almost happy.

He thought that he should have felt jealous, recognized the way he watched JC the past couple days as almost predatorily sexual, but Joey was just non-threatening. Joey's straight, he shrieked in his mind, and that was probably the answer, even as he vowed to stop reading the stories.

Still, he found himself in front of the laptop, looking with trepidation at the list of FuLa bookmarks. He knew what they were, was halfway afraid of them, worried they'd make him look at Lance like some golden, cat-eyed sex god, the way JC was suddenly a pretty kitten, kitten, and he pushed that thought out of his mind, opening the first story.

FuLa seemed to be quite popular and he was absorbed on the third or fourth page of stories about them, when Lance was beside him. Chris didn't realize it, until that soft low voice was speaking almost in his ear.

"Chris! Chris!" Lance chuckled and the sound sent chills up Chris's spine. "I've never seen you that absorbed in business before. Told you should've gotten a laptop way before now." He leaned over Chris's shoulder. "Whatcha doin'?"

Chris clicked the window off immediately, twisting to look at Lance. "Reading an email."

Lance blinked. "Looked like you were on the web."

Chris nodded wisely, "I was."

Lance didn't push it, and Chris spent the rest of the night avoiding Lance and smiling at Joey.

It wasn't until three mornings later, when Chris was standing blankly in front of the coffeepot, blinking grainy eyes, trying to remember when he'd actually gone to sleep and wishing that the coffee would hurry the fuck up, that he thought maybe it was time to talk to someone about what he'd found.

JC chose that moment to amble sleepily out of the back of the bus, and Chris thought that it was perfect since JC was his first choice. He could keep his mouth shut, and he had a way of tilting his head to the side and listening so sweetly, taking almost too long to answer, but making absolute sense once he did.

Chris gulped down most of a cup of coffee, and poured one for JC, sliding into a chair opposite from him. "Um, can we talk? I've got..." He trailed off, unsure whether he had an issue or a problem or just a perverted mind.

JC didn't seem to have a problem following him, grasping onto the coffee mug and sipping at it. He did the head tilt, meeting Chris's eyes as he asked, "So, what's up?"

"Are we all straight?"

Chris thought that there were a hundred better ways to have phrased the question, but maybe it was better to just get the meat, as it were, out on the table. Chris was a little surprised that JC didn't even blink, just seemed to fade out a little as he considered.

"I don't know about Justin and Joey. I think so. Lance and I had sex once. So I guess we're not. I don't think he goes out looking for guys much." JC shrugged, "It's not like I can, and I assume he's the same way. Girls are just easier."

Chris nodded, raising his coffee cup to chug more caffeine when JC smiled at him and asked, "So, what about you?"

"Yeah. The same, only I never had sex with Lance."

"Yeah, well, I barely remember it." JC's eyes crinkled and he moved to move into their living area. "Is that all?"

"Well. Do you ever, um, read about us online? Like. The stories?" Chris ducked his head, suddenly sympathizing with Lance as he felt his cheeks heat.

JC nodded, confused looking. "Yeah. Stuff like, Justin meeting some chick with a fluffy name and taking her to her senior prom and falling madly in love? There's usually no punctuation?"

"No. Like, about us."

Silence stretched out uncomfortably, until JC started laughing. "You found slash, dude?" He patted Chris's shoulder, seemingly unaware when Chris flinched away. "Are you that freaked?"

"Not so much freaked, just. Guilty. And a little freaked I guess." Chris shifted, suddenly wishing that he'd let it go, decided to think through this on his own, no matter how good of a listener JC was.

"Why freaked?"

Chris thought. "It's true. That's what freaks me out. Joey looks at Lance with a lot more emotion, I mean, real emotion than he looks at the chicks he picks up. Lance is the same way."

JC drank three small sips of his coffee, eyes dark and focused on something far away. "We don't have any reason to be warm with the random girls that trade sex for celebrity." His mouth twisted just a little. "They don't see us for us. We have each other for the kind of warmth that I'd bet normal people find in relationships."

Chris wondered for a minute what really happened with Bobbie, but he didn't know what to say.

"Why guilty?"

Chris dropped his eyes. "I well. I kinda enjoy it."

"Hmmm. Feel guilty about lusting after us?" There was laughter threaded through JC's concern and Chris scowled at him.

"Yes, yes I do. And don't laugh at me, you fucker."

JC drifted away clutching his half full mug of coffee and laughing, calling back, "You can lust after my ass, Chris. I won't be offended."

Chris ignored his laptop most of the day, through an interview, soundcheck, a concert, and unpacking in yet another hotel room. He was grateful that they were off the bus, glad for the privacy and the quiet.

He really didn't intend to log on, but he'd been looking at JC all day, and thinking pretty kitten, pretty kitten and thinking about JC and Lance curled up together.

The initial intention was to find Bassez fic, but he found himself looking at TrickC stories, reading one after the other. They seemed to be sweet and happy, even when they were raunchy and dirty. Chris thought that maybe JC brought that quality of sweetness to everything he touched, even on a computer screen.

There was one he liked. He came back to it, reread it and reread it again, before quickly opening an email, cutting and pasting the url into it, and hitting send without allowing himself to think or second guessing himself.

He logged off, shut the computer down and lay back, not really intending to sleep, just staring at the ceiling and wondering when his life got so complicated.

There was a knock on his door, followed by the click of a keycard and he sat upright, startled and half asleep. When JC stepped into the room, his stomach twisted.

It seemed like it was okay when JC smiled at him, padding over to sit on the bed beside him.

"Trying to tell me something?"

Chris didn't know what to say, and he settled for imitating JC's head tilt and shrugging. "Maybe I just want the caring and the sex altogether, rather than split up into two?"

JC just nodded and smiled, and when he kissed Chris, the only thought left in Chris's head was pretty kitten, pretty kitten.

~end~.