It all really started when Chris finally noticed Lance's voice. They were doing Saturday Night Live, and due to a technical fuck-up, Chris had Lance's part in his earpiece during "I Thought She Knew." He usually had JC, and the shock of hearing Lance's bass almost made him miss his cue.

On live TV.

Lucky for him, he got his shit together before totally embarrassing himself, but Lance's part got stuck in his head, and at the after-party, he found himself humming along.

For some reason, his own voice didn't dance down his spine the way Lance's had.

The next day, Chris hid away in his bunk with the "No Strings" CD in his discman and listened to the whole thing, trying to pick Lance's parts out on each song. He was focused so hard by the time he got to "I Thought She Knew" that when Justin pulled back the curtain on Chris' bunk, Chris didn't notice until Justin tickled his feet.

"Dude. You're been so quiet all day. You channelin' JC or something?" Chris sat up so fast he hit his head on the bunk.

"Fucker!" he moaned, rubbing the sore spot.

Justin chuckled. "What you listening to?"

"Nothing."

"The hell. You were lookin all dreamy." Justin made a grab for Chris' CD player.

Chris scrambled, but Justin got to it before he did. Justin popped open the player and stared at the CD. "Dude. What, you not sick of this yet? Forgot your lines after the 3 millionth time we've sang it?" asked Justin, incredulous.

"Shut up, bitch."

Justin stepped back. "What the hell is your problem?

"I just smacked my head on a bigass piece of wood. You do the math." "Jumpy bastard. Seriously. What's the deal with you? You've been weird since last night."

"I'm fine. So fine, I'm going to kick your ass at Final Fantasy now." Chris hopped off the bunk, pushed his way past Justin, and called over his shoulder, "Last one there is a pansy ass girl!"

That afternoon after the sound check, Joey plopped down next to Chris on the couch in the Toy Room.

"Dude, if you stare at him any harder, he's going to notice."

"Stare at who? I'm not staring at anybody! I'm zoning. If there's anyone in the direction I'm zoning, I'm not seeing him," Chris answered, arms crossing over his chest.

"Sure. That's why you're tracking his every move. You're so busted, man. Now you want to tell me why you're boring holes in Lance?"

"No reason, really..."

"Chris!"

"It's really nothing. Just, his voice."

"His voice?"

"Yeah. It was accidentally in my earpiece on SNL. It's really deep and shit."

"That's why he's the bass, Captain Obvious."

Chris smacked Joey's arm hard.

"OW! That hurt, fucker."

Chris just glared.

"Wait. Now I get it. You just realized Lance has porn voice!"

"Porn voice?!"

That caught Lance's attention. "Would you shut the fuck up about that, Joey?"

Joey cracked up. "Listen, Scoop. I'm not the only one who's noticed, so don't get all pissy with me."

Lance rolled his eyes. "I swear, Joey, if you don't knock off asking me to say all that stuff..."

"Saying what stuff?" Chris interjected.

Lance just shook his head. "This... stuff. I'm not repeating it."

"Aww. Please, Lance?" Chris made his best pout.

"Yeah, please, Lance," Joey joined in.

"No. Piss off."

Chris and Joey exchanged a look and in an instant were off the couch and pouncing on Lance. Joey held him down and Chris tickled him until he couldn't breathe.

"Stopstopstop!" Lance breathed heavily until Chris let up. "Fine. Fine. What do you want me to say?"

"That one from The Big Easy," Joey replied instantly.

Lance groaned. "Fine, fine." He tried to get up, but was still pinned beneath the other men. Sighing he said "I think your luck's about to change."

"Dude, that's your normal voice," Chris complained, and they began tickling Lance all over again.

"Say it right and we'll stop," Joey promised.

Lance gasped and bucked trying to get them off. "That's my voice, you fuckers, get off!"

"But we want porn voice," Joey admonished.

"I don't have a..." Lance knew he wasn't going to win. Taking a deep breath he repeated, "I think your luck's about to change."

"Oh my god," Chris breathed.

"Shut up, Joey! It's not funny, it's just lame!" Chris stormed into the back of the bus and flopped down next to JC, who was bent over his keyboard, headphones in place.

"Why does Lance need their entire bus to himself? Oh, wait, because Joey is such an enormous pain in the ass that Lance can't get any work done with him BUGGING THE SHIT OUT OF EVERYONE AROUND HIM!"

"HAH!" came Joey's response shouted from the kitchen.

JC sighed, played a few more notes, and decided not to point out that he was trying to work just as hard as Lance was. He took off his headphones and turned to Chris.

"What's *with* you two today? You've met your bitching quota for the entire day and it's not even noon."

"He's driving me up a wall."

JC smiled. Joey and Chris were forever coming to him with "he's driving me up the wall."

"What did Joey do to poor innocent Chris today?"

"He won't let up about Lance's voice!"

JC looked surprised. "What about it?"

Chris fidgeted. "Well, okay, I'm an idiot, I admit it, but I only just noticed how deep it is and shit. And now Joey won't let it go."

"You *just* noticed? Jesus, Chris, and they call me clueless."

"Listen, JC," Chris snapped, "If you're going to be an asshole about it, too, I'll make the drivers stop and let me switch buses. At least Lance won't harass me about this."

"No, sorry...I mean, it's okay."

"And I'm sorry, too. It's just fucking Joey..."

"I can hear you, you know," Joey shouted from the kitchen.

"Whatever," Chris called back before returning his attention to JC. "So, when did you notice?"

"Huh? Well...you know...it's Lance. And his voice...And it's all warm and deep and sexy." A faint blush touched JC's cheeks. "You know...and it's...the voice. A good thing." JC stammered. He stood and inched away from Chris. "You know....it was the first thing I noticed about him....Well, that...and his eyes."

And saying that JC fled from the room.

"Hmm." Chris sat quietly for all of 30 seconds before swooping into the kitchen where Joey sat eating a sandwich.

Chris picked up the half left on the plate and took a giant bite. "Hey, dude. Did you know JC has a thing for Lance?"

"Jayce? Nah. We've talked about this. He just gets mildly turned on by Lance's voice. Just like somebody else short and annoying in this room."

"And somebody fat and annoying in this room."

"Admit it, little man. You're the one with the 'thing for Lance'"

"I'm not a little man. I'm hung like a horse. You're just jealous because you may be tall, but you're short where it matters."

Joey cuffed Chris over the head. "I'm gonna go tell the driver to stop so I can switch back buses." He smirked at Chris. "Wanna come with? Cause Lance is dreamy to listen to on the phone..."

He ran before Chris had a chance to smack him.

Justin waltzed back in from his day with Britney, catching up with the buses at their hotel for the night. He spotted Chris in the little diner in the lobby and plopped himself down at the table. "So...Lance, huh?"

"I am so going to kick Joey's ass all the way back to Orlando," Chris fumed, not meeting Justin's eyes. "Besides, it's Lance's voice, not Lance. Dumbshit bigass Italian can't even get the simplest thing straight."

"Yeah...Lance's voice." Justin fidgeted. "You know, people have told me that my voice is pretty hot too."

Chris snorted.

"What? C'mon. It totally is. Millions of girls can't be wrong."

"Justin, get real. The millions of girls are not into your *voice*. You could sing like a frog, but as long as your hips," Chris jabbed him there to make his point, "move like they do, the teenies wouldn't care. And anyway, I am so not a girl, and your voice is no Lance's."

Justin sat back and huffed for a moment. Then he turned back to Chris. "But you totally admit it then? Lance's voice turns you on?"

"I didn't say that!"

" Did too."

"Justin, all I said was your voice is no Lance's. Just because I can recognize something is sexy doesn't mean it's a turn-on for me. I mean, I get why the teenies dig you, but no offence, you just don't do it for me."

Justin looked indignant. Then he grinned. "Everybody wants me," he whispered in Chris' ear and then swept grandly out of the coffee shop.

Chris plopped down next to Lance and closed his eyes. The bus would arrive at the Much Music studio in a few minutes. Chris was exhausted from weeks of rehearsal and the start of the tour, and it was all just beginning.

Lance, as usual, had his cell glued to his ear. Chris let Lance's voice wash over him. He barely noticed the tingle it always caused, inured by so much time together in the past months.

Lance clicked his cell shut when some unknown assistant told them it was time. "Here we go again," he said to Chris.

Chris sat up and smiled. He was actually looking forward to terrorizing Rick again, even if the rest of the interview would be same old, same old. Joey recognized the look on Chris' face. "Rick is really in for it again, isn't he, the poor sucker."

Chris cackled and bounced on the balls of his feet.

"Be nice," Joey admonished, but Chris just laughed louder and hopped off the bus.

The interview was going exactly as predicted until one of the last questions, submitted by a fan. "If you could be a female celebrity, who would you be and why?"

Lance immediately answered, "Janet Jackson."

"Why, Lance?" Rick asked.

"I touch myself," he sang into his mike, and Chris was suddenly, completely and totally back to where he'd been the weeks after their SNL appearance.

In short, he was in deep shit.

They hadn't been back on the bus for more than 10 seconds before JC started giggling insanely. He turned toward Lance, "I cannot *believe* you said what you said, man."

"No shit! And everyone thinks *I'm* the perv..." Joey laughed.

Justin started to dance around mimicking Lance's low voice. "I touch myself," he sang over and over, wiggling suggestively.

Lance blushed a deep red, but was laughing as well. "Okay, okay...occasionally my mouth opens and stuff comes out before I can think."

Justin was now running his hands erotically up and down his body. Lance smacked him. "Knock it off, dork."

Joey started dancing with Justin. "You know, Lance, we expect that kind of thing from Jayce, but not from you."

"Hey!" JC exclaimed.

"No offence, man, but he's right," Justin smirked, pulling JC to his feet and making him join the painfully bad lambada that he and Joey were performing.

"You spend enough time with JC, and eventually you're gonna channel him." Lance replied, trying to get the focus off himself. "And I swear, if ya'll knew how stupid you looked...."

"No stupider than you did in the interview. At least it's just us," Justin shot back. He exchanged a look with Joey and they lifted Lance between them and began to grind into him on either side, simultaneously singing the song in harmony.

Lance squirmed uncomfortably. "Bastards...knock it off. Chris!, dammit help!"

"Oh, Chris would just loooove to help you!" Joey leered.

Immediately, everyone stopped their movement. Lance raised his eyebrows at Joey. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Chris smacked Joey, who grabbed his arm and pulled him between himself and Lance. "Nothing, Lance. Just Joey being an ass. I have to say, I am kinda shocked that you let your southern gentleman mask slip and showed your true nasty self on live TV."

"No, you're just shocked by the hard-on it gave you," Joey rejoined.

"Oh, Joey. The hard-on wasn't for Lance. It was for the idea of you...with Chyna!" Chris cackled.

"Oh, Chris!" Joey fawned, falsetto, "I didn't know you felt that way." He inched closer to Chris and leaned down to whisper breathily, "I touch myself..." Then he smacked Chris on the ass.

"That's it!" Chris shouted. "You have incurred the wrath of the mighty Kirkpatrick and now you must pay!" Chris launched himself at Joey and it was all forgotten as the five became a twisted pile of limbs wrestling on the floor.

Chris was battling Justin on the PlayStation when his cell rang. "Jayce, get it please," he begged, throwing his body to the right in an attempt to get his guy out of range of Justin's fire.

"I'm not your secretary," JC shot back, but answered anyway. "Hello?"

Lance's deep baritone greeted him. "Hey. It's me. Is Chris there?"

"Yeah, man. Hold on....Chris!! Janet Jackson is on the phone."

"Fuck you!" came tinnily over the phone.

Justin hit the pause button and Chris grabbed the phone. "I touch myself!"

"In case you didn't hear me the first time, fuck off....Now, do you want help with that new spreadsheet you were bitching about or what?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Then get your ass over here."

"Fine. Lance?"

"Yeah?"

"If I bring a picture of Janet, can I watch you touch yourself?"

Lance's answer was a dial tone.

Chris packed his laptop and broke it to a gleeful Justin that Joey was going to be taking over his game.

When he got to the other bus he heard Joey call to Lance, "Try not to touch yourself in front of Chris. I don't think he could take it."

Lance groaned. "FUCK OFF."

Chris walloped Joey as they crossed. "I heard that, dickhead."

Chris climbed on the bus. Lance was on the couch with his laptop open in front of him. Chris settled next to him and booted up his own computer.

Lance started speaking before Chris had a chance to say the word "touch." So, I've been looking this over and I think..."

"You really should stop looking over Janet pictures, Lance. You're going to hurt your hand," Chris interrupted.

"Chris. Do you want me to help or not?" Lance asked lightly.

"Yeah, you know I do."

"Well then...stop with the Janet Jackson." Lance was quiet for a moment. "You know, at least I chose someone cool. You chose Gwen. How original. And I *do* believe you were quoted saying that you wished you were Gwen so you could take yourself out."

"Shut up, Bass, and help me figure out this spreadsheet."

"Ha. Doesn't feel so good when it's you, does it?" Lance growled.

"Don't be so *touchy*, Lansten."

"Fine. Sorry."

They worked in silence for a few moments until he noticed Chris watching him. "What?!"

"If I was different male celebrity, I'd choose you. Why? 'I touch myself.'" Chris smirked.

"I...just...ugh!" Lance stormed off into the kitchen.

Chris sidled up behind him, wrapped his arms around Lance's waist and breathed in his ear, "I touch myself."

The next thing Chris knew, Lance had him pressed against the wall, his hands pinned above his head. In his deepest whisper, tickling Chris' ear and sending shivers down his back, Lance said, "Is this what you wanted, Chris?"

"Huh?"

"Don't huh, me. Tell me what you want."

"I want to be Janet Jackson when you're her," Chris stammered, not sure he was making sense.

Lance seemed to get it, though, because his lips curved into a smile. "Do it then."

Chris had about two seconds to think about it and then his mouth was covering that smile. It was the hottest thing he'd ever done in his not inexperienced life. And suddenly he didn't want to be Janet Jackson anymore, because being Chris Kirkpatrick at that moment was damn fine.

That night at the hotel when Joey, JC and Justin came to get him to go clubbing, Chris passed, citing FuMan business. Once they left he heard Lance start singing from the shower, "I touch myself."

Chris was pretty sure he left track marks in his haste to get to the bathroom.

~end~.