Joey took comfort in the fact that even when things were surreal in their intensity, his bus was calm and peaceful. Sometimes he missed the rough and tumble of the other bus, until he really thought about it and remembered dirty socks and filthy showers and the unearthly concoctions that Justin found appetizing at 3 in the morning.

His bus had Lance sprawled on the couch, neither awake nor asleep, but curled up warm and soft somewhere in between, looking at Joey, not the televison, with drowsy, dull eyes. Joey knew that there was something wrong, saw it in the way Lance moved through their days, walked stiffly and cautiously like if he stepped the wrong way, he'd splinter apart.

Joey didn't know what transpired between Lance and Chris. None of them did. He just knew that his quiet bus got even quieter, and Chris seemed louder and far more interested than usual in being touched by everyone who wasn't Lance.

Lance struggled upright, clearing his throat.. Joey realized that he'd been been staring too long, but Lance suddenly looked pale and tired and thinner than he was a few days ago.

"You should eat." Joey had to clear his throat and repeat himself, because the first time, it came out too low to be heard.

"S'ok, I'm not hungry." Lance shifted, tucked his legs under himself and looked up at Joey, his eyes wide and so green that they looked fake, like really bright contact lenses. "You can sit down. I'm not really watching anything."

Joey perched on the edge of the couch. "Gonna tell me what's going on? Why you're not eating and Chris is waging war by hugs?"

Lance laughed but it wasn't his usual good natured rumble. "It's fine, Joe. I'm just. I just don't know, okay?" His head sank down, half on Joey and half on the cushions.

He patted Lance on the upper arm and moved briskly into the kitchen. Too many years of living together meant he could put together the sort of sandwich that Lance liked, grab the right kind of soda and hustle back out to the living room before this new, slow Lance even realized that he was gone.

He plunked the sandwich down by Lance, handed him soda that purposely wasn't diet. When Lance made a face, he snapped the can open and handed it to him. "At least drink something."

Lance nodded and sipped. When he picked up the sandwich, looked at it with something approaching revulsion but took a bite anyway, Joey patted him again. "Eat your whole sandwich and there's a shiny gold star in it for you.

He didn't mean to sound condescending and paternal, but he thought that maybe it was okay, when Lance whipped his head around, mouth open a little.

"Ok Dad... but you never put soda in my lunchbox before.." He rolled his eyes. "Where the fuck's my Scooby Doo lunchbox?"

"I had, like, G.I. Joe and He-Man, usually the year after they were popular. Never had Scooby though." Joey thought about Scooby Doo while Lance finished off the ends of his sandwich. "What do you think was in those scooby snacks?"

Lance started giggling and flipped through the television channels, looking for the Cartoon Network. Scooby Doo wasn't on of course, but he claimed to like the Wacky Race and when he curled up, his head solidly nestled against Joey's arm, laughing at one of the villains, Joey didn't really care that Lance never answered his question.

It was lunchtime, but just about everyone was off doing their own thing. Justin was lunching with Britney, his face twisting in annoyance as he walked out the door. JC was holed up with another wanna be producer, working on his latest vision, while the rest of them held their breath in terror.

Joey was eating his sandwich and unabashedly hiding from his friends. He was tired and he didn't feel like being hugged by Chris or dealing with the relentless inquisition it took to get a sentence out of Lance when Chris was around.

From his little alcove, Joey watched Lance walk up to Chris, shoulders squared and face impassive. Nodding to himself, smiling, he sat back and watched. He was pleased that Lance was finally making effort to fix things so that their world might really go back to normal. Joey missed things like Lance actually laughing and Chris snarking, hated feeling caught in the cross fire.

Too soon, though, things stopped looking promising. Joey didn't know much about body language, but nothing he was seeing looked good. Lance laid a hand on Chris's arm, leaned in to talk, but Chris just pulled away shrugging his shoulders. Joey thought that maybe Lance's pride snapped in then, because his face twisted and whatever he mumbled made Chris turn around and grab him.

Joey got to his feet, feeling more than a little tired, eyes fixed on his friends. He was fairly certain that it wasn't cool to burst in the two of them, but Chris had been known to punch if properly provoked, and Lance in one of his moods was nothing if not provocative. He settled for moving slowly, unobtrusively, and hoping that they'd work things out before he got there.

They were so intent on their argument that they never even saw him coming. No blows were exchanged, but he could see the gleam in Chris's eyes and the slump of Lance's shoulders. Joey noted distractedly that they didn't even fight like normal people, muting their voices to an angry mutter in unconscious deference to everpresent audiences.

Their eyes were locked, Chris's hand still grabbing at Lance's arm and Joey was stunned at the intimacy of their position. He was close enough to hear, unsure whether to clear his throat, or just hope that they'd fix whatever was wrong without big brother Joey stepping in to break up another fight.

He settled for leaning against the wall far enough away to give them some semblence of privacy, but close enough to hear what was going on.

Chris jostled Lance, "We can't do that shit anymore. It's wrong, and..."

"Yeah, it's so right to fuck with the whole group." Lance's voice was silky smooth and Joey couldn't help but think that even if he were furious, he sounded more alive than he had in days.

"Yeah, well maybe you're just pissed because you don't have enough balls to say anything."

"You're such a fucking hypocrite. You hugged everyone for days before you said anything. It's not like you got what you wanted, anyway." Lance's voice dropped a notch, mocking and nasty. "He's thinking about it."

Joey thought wildly that it felt like watching a really weird ping pong game where he didn't know any of the rules. Or really even, how long it had been going on.

Chris shoved Lance then. "He's thinking though. More than you can say." He flicked his eyes away from Lance, smiling just a little. "Hi there, Joey."

Joey didn't understand Chris's mean little smile, but he said "Hi", and just stood there feeling uncomfortable, wishing that he'd kept out of it.

Lance turned barely halfway, nodded at Joey and walked away without saying a word. His face was pale, and all the life that Joey had coaxed back into his eyes the night before seemed to have fled. He didn't look back.

Joey took two quick, hard steps toward Chris. "What the fuck is going on?" He glanced at Lance's retreating form. "What the hell have you done to him?"

Chris's face hardened and there might have been something like regret in his eyes. "I didn't do anything to him, man. Just what he asked for." He mumbled almost to himself, "What we both almost wanted."

Joey had Chris smashed up against the wall before he even knew what he was doing. "Now do you wanna tell me why Lance walked out of here like a whipped puppy you'd just personally kicked?"

Chris shoved back, hard. "Don't you think you should ask him, Joey? What, I'm supposed to fuck him over and then tell you his secrets?" He shook his head. "I don't think so."

Joey grinned down at Chris, baring his teeth. "Yeah, well, I'm his best friend and if he won't tell me, you damn well will." He was about two inches away from Chris's face. "If you can't fix him, then it's my job. But you will tell me what you did to put that look on his face."

"Fine." Chris laughed, one short sharp bark. "We both wanted to fuck people who didn't want us, so we did each other." He smiled the same nasty smile at Joey. "Only I had enough balls to finally say something and he didn't. He's so caught up in fear of what would happen to the group if he caught a fucking clue and said something, that he's happy settling for me."

Joey turned cold, incredulous eyes on Chris. "What the...? You can fuck him but you can't love him? Can't make him happy? You sick fuck."

Chris snorted. "Screw that, man. I coulda liked him. Yeah, like that." He walked away just as calmly as Lance had. "I just don't wanna be someone's second choice, even if the sex was blow your head off good."

Joey slumped against the wall, watching Chris retreat in the exact opposite direction that Lance had headed. "Didn't want to fuck the group up? Second choice? What?"

He thought that maybe he should go find Lance, until he realized that even if he were successful, he had absolutely no idea what to actually say.

So fifteen minutes later, he'd tracked down JC, had him seated with a Coke and a sandwich, and was randomly wondering why he was the only one who ever seemed to make sure people ate.

JC was staring dreamily off into space, humming. Joey watched him for a little while, wondering how exactly one worked it into a normal conversation that the reason Lance was so tired and withdrawn was because he was madly in love with JC.

JC set his sandwich down and looked directly at Joey. "Doo wop, man. Old school style. But, like, techno-ish." He picked his sandwich back up, taking a huge bite and beaming happily while he hummed with his mouth full.

Joey looked very hard at him and tried to imagine him making Lance happy. He shook his head once, twice and then stood back up, one hand on JC's shoulders for leverage. "Sorry man. You turned him down and it wouldn't be good anyway."

JC nodded, unconcerned. "S'cool, dude. Is that a new song or something?" Joey almost justified when JC started singing 'it wouldn't be good anyway' to the tune of 'I'll be good for you' until the similarity struck him and he mumbled to himself, "Dude. We already did that."

Joey tried to get Lance alone for what seemed like hours. Unfortunately, Lance spent most of the day huddled with JC, talking about song writing and humming melodies when JC asked him to, while Chris sprawled off to the side and pretended like he didn't care about anything.

When they were all ushered back onto the buses, Lance looked like maybe he was ready to get on the other bus. Then Joey grabbed the back of his shirt and pretty much lifted him aboard, while JC giggled and Justin just shook his head.

Lance stomped toward his bunk. He turned and looked at Joey. "I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to hear about it. I just want to be left alone."

Joey stood there, mouth open, while Lance flopped into his bunk and ripped the curtain closed. There were lots of things he wanted to say but he turned the television on and tried to not think about Lance fucking Chris or touching JC.

He managed to get absorbed in a mindless sitcom, and it was almost a surprise when Lance walked into the room, scrubbing at his eyes and looking sad and almost apologetic. There didn't seem to be any point in asking questions, so Joey just patted the seat next to him and smiled when Lance sat down and leaned back against the cushions.

Joey draped an arm over Lance's shoulder and pulled him closer. He leaned down, kissed Lance's cheek, holding tight when he tried to pull away. "I think Chris is nuts, okay?"

Lance stiffened, and turned to Joey, his face blanking. "What did he tell you?" He looked down, pulling away from Joey.

"Just that you guys used to fuck. And you're worried about messing up the band's vibe, so you won't tell JC how you feel."

"JC? I won't tell JC..." Lance's eyes widened and he stopped talking.

Joey grabbed Lance, meeting his eyes and trying to look very wise. "S'okay. I can understand why you want JC, but he's just. He's not for you, y'know?" He tried to make Lance see, like if he were earnest enough, things would be clearer.

The words that he'd practised all day weren't coming out right and Lance looked like he was ready to bolt or maybe cry, so Joey leaned down and kissed him.

It was chaste at first, until Lance actually melted into him, the hard lines of his body softening and molding themselves to fit Joey, his arms snaking around Joey's neck. When Joey licked at the corner of Lance's mouth, Lance groaned and cupped Joey's face, nipping at his lip.

Joey pulled back reluctantly, watching almost happily as Lance opened his eyes looking more than a little dazed. "I'd be better for you than JC."

Lance shifted, pulling one of the couch cushions onto his lap, hugging it close. "I don't want JC." He spoke quietly, sadly.

Joey shifted uncomfortably. "But Chris said... The group? It's Justin? I mean, you guys aren't like, even friends."

"I don't want Justin either."

Joey looked at Lance. "But. Um, that means. it's me? Like, you want me?" He'd been so busy practicing what to say to persuade Lance that he'd be a better choice, that he didn't know what to say.

"Chris said the same thing." Lance shrugged, purposely not meeting Joey's eyes. "Guess this is the part where you laugh at me, or something."

"Not laughing. Want to kiss you again, and then we can discuss why I'm far better than JC. And then, we can discuss why I'm better than Chris and Justin. After that, we'll both be too tired to talk anymore."

Joey grinned at Lance, happy that it could be that simple, watching the play of emotions on Lance's face. He looked stunned, then like he was considering Joey's plan. When Lance's eyes darkened, Joey thought that it was probably a good time to kiss him again.

As Joey leaned in, he laughed just a little bit. "Tomorrow, we thank Chris, okay?" Lance nodded and tilted his head up, waiting for Joey to kiss him.

~end~