Author: Zarah

Pairing: Lance Bass/Wade Robson, JC Chasez/Justin Timberlake

Rating: NC-17

Note: I did it. I slashed Wade. Is everyone disgusted with me now? Yes? Very well, I knew I would make it someday. - Okay, so why Wade? Because Wade, at least in my opinion, is very slashable. So is Lance. Why not let them be slashable together?

Thanks to: Ria for the edit. Have I told you lately that I love you?

Summary: Wherein Lance isn't able to dance. Wade is. Justin is able to dance, too, and JC sure isn't complaining about that.

Disclaimer: This story is true. Justin isn't dating Britney. JC is gay. - All of these are lies.


Lance knows that he can't impress Wade, no matter what he does. He doesn't have Justin's natural grace when he is dancing, is always the last to get the moves down. So it is understood that Wade spends most of their breaks talking and laughing with Justin. Because Justin can dance. And Lance can't.

But dancing isn't the only thing Justin does well. Another one is writing songs, and he does it best when Wade joins him for the writing process. And so, when they aren't talking, then the two of them are spending an awful lot of time huddled close together, bent over some notes or lyrics and discussing quietly amongst themselves, shutting out everyone around them.

Lance is leaning against the mirror of the room they use far too often to rehearse; tired of dancing, tired of being in this room that has no windows and only artificial light because of the paparazzi.

Tired of watching Justin and Wade enjoy themselves.

It just isn't fair.

It isn't fair to JC who is sitting on the floor near Lance, watching every single one of Justin's movements with wide, admiring eyes, but Justin doesn't even notice because the only one he is looking at is Wade.

And it certainly isn't fair to Lance who is having a hard time restraining himself from running over and tearing them apart, shoving Justin into JC's arms so that he can grab Wade and claim him his property.

But of course he won't, can't do that.

So what if it hurts him? So what if it hurts JC?

There is nothing they can do about it.

Because JC isn't Justin's age. And Wade is. And even though age has never really been important to any of them, it is just easier to talk to someone who isn't older by five years.

Because Lance can't dance. And Justin can. And no teacher spends more time than necessary with his worst student.

Because they have a fucking bond that neither JC nor Lance are able to compete with.


Wade is stupid.

Wade is ugly.

Wade wouldn't recognize humor if it paraded in front of him wearing a miniskirt.

Wade is so convinced of his perfection that he has to admire himself in the mirrored walls each time they rehearse.

Wade is trying to sneak his way into becoming the sixth member of *NSYNC.

JC wishes that at least one of these were true. Maybe then he would be able to hate Wade without sounding like the jealous fool he is.


Wade says: "Okay then, we're done for today," and it sounds like "Welcome to heaven."

After it is over, Lance doesn't mind the room as much, and often he deliberately takes his time, just to stay a little longer, to be able to watch Wade as he is packing up his own things, stacking up the CDs in a corner because Wade always does that at the end of a day. It is also, Lance admits, the smile he and Wade exchange each time Wade locks the door behind the both of them that makes him stay.

Lance looks in the mirror, watches as Wade takes one of the CDs out of its case and turns it in his hands before straightening up from his crouching position. He glances at Lance, then back at the CD, and it seems as if he has come to a decision when he wanders over to where Lance is fiddling with his water bottle.


Lance returns the smile. "Hey."

"I was just wondering..." Wade slides to the floor beside him, sitting cross-legged. "Do you have anything planned for the rest of the day?"

There is really no point in getting his hopes up, Lance tells himself firmly. He shrugs. "Not really."

"Because," the CD is rotating around Wade's index finger. "Only if you want to, of course, but we could stay for another hour or two and work on some of the steps."

"I..." Lance sighs. Of course. It has to be something like that, something to remind him just why exactly he will never be a patch on Justin in Wade's eyes. "I'm actually sort of tired. So."

"It won't be very trying," Wade promises. "Just some basic moves that you haven't quite down, and once you got them, you'll have less trouble with learning the new choreography."

Lance frowns, tries not to look anywhere near Wade because he knows that he will give in then, no matter how tired he is, no matter how much he really doesn't want to extend the length of his torture.

"It's, you know, you're not a bad dancer or anything, it's just that you weren't taught all of the basic moves, so it would be a lot easier for you if you learned them." Wade tilts his head to one side, and Lance looks.

He sighs warily. "Now?"

Wade's smile is blinding. "If you don't have anything else planned."

"Well, okay. I guess. Though," he pauses. "Joey gave me a ride, so I don't know how to get home then."

"I can drive you. If you want."

Lance nods, smiles. "Okay."


"Yo, JC! Wait up!"

Justin catches him just before he turns his car key in the lock. JC looks up, grins. "What's up, Just?"

Leaning on the open driver's door, Justin is breathing heavily. "Wanted to ask you if you could, like, help me with this song I'm working on."

Don't ask, don't ask, don't ask.

He asks anyway. "What about Wade?"

Justin shakes his head, and just for a moment, JC misses the 'fro, the way the tiny curls used to move around Justin's face. He's glad that Justin is growing his hair back. "No, I'd much rather work with you on that one. It just seems," Justin shrugs. "Just seems to fit better."

"Sure." JC smiles. "You wanna come over sometime then?"

"Yeah. You free tonight?" Justin smirks at him. "I'm even gonna pick up some real good wine for you."

Laughing, JC nudges Justin's hand away from the steering wheel, adjusts his seat. "You don't have to, J."

"I know," Justin agrees. "I'm gonna do it anyway."

"When are you coming over?"

"An hour good for you?"

JC nods, shuts the car door, lets the window slide open. "Sure. Food?"

Justin leans in. "I'm gonna take care of that, too. Chinese?"

"Works for me." JC waits for Justin to step back, then he backs out of the parking space, waves through the open window. "See you in a few, then!"

Justin grins, waves, then turns around and walks the small distance to his own car.

JC tries not to get too excited.


"Uh..." JC's vision is slightly blurred - Italian wine. Red. Strong. -, but not so blurred that he can't make out the words anymore. "Uh," he repeats, shifting in his seat, not daring to look Justin in the eyes. "That's... Kinda beats my Digital Getdown, doesn't it?"

"You don't like it?" Justin looks crestfallen, a tiny pout already forming on his face, and JC is quick to calm him down.

"I like it. Very much." Too much, actually, at least some parts of him. The ones between his legs. "It's just very... graphic, you know?"

"Duh." Justin looks as if he just stated that the sky is blue. "It's about a strip."

How come Justin is still mostly sober? Because he's had just as much of the red wine as JC, yet he doesn't seem tipsy at all. No fair.


JC nods, and he is not thinking about Justin doing what he describes in that song. He is not thinking about Justin smothering the you he is singing about with his looks, or about Justin taking off his clothes slowly, one by one, or about Justin kissing that certain you languidly while his hips are moving against that person. He is just reading Justin's words in which he is describing all of these things. Not picturing. Just reading. Yeah.

"You really like it?" Justin asks, and JC thinks that his nod is maybe a little bit too enthusiastic. But hey, he's drunk, and he always tends to get a little over-eager when he's drunk.

"I do," he says. "I really do. It's great. Though I'm not sure if we can put that on one of our records without risking the protest of concerned parents."

"That's okay." Justin shrugs, and is it just JC's imagination, or is he sitting closer than he was just a few seconds ago? "It wasn't really meant to be."

"It wasn't?" JC is still staring down at the words. Reading, yes, that's what he is doing.

"No." And maybe the wine is having some effect on Justin after all, because JC is sure that his voice didn't sound that husky before.


"No," Justin confirms. He takes the sheet out of JC's hands, leaving JC to stare into nothingness because there is no way he is going to look at Justin now. No way.

He swallows. "What did you write it for, then?"

Justin, it seems, doesn't intend to answer the question. Instead he leans back in the cushions of the sofa, and no, JC hasn't just imagined the pink tongue sneaking out to lick full lips.

"Anyone ever done that for you?" Justin asks casually, as if it is the weather he is talking about, as if he didn't just place a warm hand on JC's knee.

"Strip?" The alcohol, it's only the alcohol that makes him feel so dizzy. Really, Justin. Only the alcohol.


JC pretends the hand creeping up his thigh doesn't exist. Leans back. "No. Not really."

And then Justin is right in his personal space, whispering in his ear, and there is no way he's had as much wine as JC or he wouldn't be able to sound the way he does. "Want me to show you how it's done?"

As he nods, JC decides that he can blame it on the Italian wine. Just in case he needs an excuse tomorrow.


"Exactly. Just like that." Wade beams, and Lance doesn't quite understand why. After all, he has hardly done anything. Wade is the one who has guided him, who has stood close behind him, their bodies touching all the way so that he can show Lance how to move.

Not that Lance is complaining.

Wade steps back. "And now do it alone, and then I guess we're done."

For the tenth of a second, Lance wonders whether, if he fails, Wade will guide him through the motions once again. But he really is tired, so he decides against trying his luck.

"Yes." Clapping, Wade takes a step forward. "See? I told you it wasn't that hard."

"Hard enough for me." Taking the offered towel gratefully out of Wade's hands, Lance sinks to the floor. "I'm beat."

"You hungry?" Wade is leaning against one of the mirrors, and Lance wonders how it is possible that he looks just as fresh as before the start of the rehearsal, about six hours ago now.

"Yeah." Lance wipes his forehead dry. "Wish my refrigerator wasn't completely empty."

"How about we grab a bite to eat on the way to your house?" Already gathering his things, Wade turns to look at him. "Is there some restaurant?"

"Isn't there a McDonald's right down this street?"

Wade shakes his head. "You think that's a good idea? They're gonna rip you to pieces without bodyguards."

"Good point," Lance agrees.

"Let's go to some fancy one. They'll leave you alone there." Once again, Wade turns and smiles at him. "I'll invite you."

"No way!" Lance protests immediately.

Wade grins. "Say thanks, Lance."

"I can't just let you pay for me."

"Say: thank you, Wade."


"Say thanks."

Lance gives in. "Thank you very much, Wade."


Justin has turned off the lights, lit candles instead so that the room is bathed in a faint golden glow. He is walking around barefoot, his shoes and socks discarded earlier, his feet sinking into the white carpet JC is so fond of. JC can't see the CD Justin chooses, but then he hears the first few notes, and really, how much of a cliché is it to choose Janet's That's The Way Love Goes, especially for them?

Justin turns around, pins him with his gaze, and JC is suddenly sure that cliches don't get half the credit they deserve.

...that's the way love goes...

Breathe, JC.

But breathing really isn't on his top ten list of things to do when Justin is watching him through half-lidded eyes, his head thrown back slightly, one hand down his pants. a moth to a flame, burned by the fire...

JC glances longingly at the pillow next to him. Would it be too obvious to place it in his lap? He turns back, and Justin has seen him, he's sure of that, because that's the only explanation for his knowing smirk. And then Justin rocks his hips, just a little, and JC is biting his lower lip to keep from moaning. love is blind, can't you see my desire...

Damn, but Justin has definitely been practicing this, there is no way someone can be that good at this without practice, a lot of practice, and now JC is getting jealous when he should just watch and enjoy the show.

...that's the way love goes...

And yes, the shirt off is a good idea, it definitely is, and now Justin is giving him the Look again before sliding a hand down his chest, over his abdomen while his hips move in time with the music.

...I'm gonna take you places you've never been before and you'll be so happy that you came...

Yeah, JC is happy, no question about that. Try to be anything less than happy when Justin Timberlake is stripping for you in your living room. Not easy. Justin's hand is creeping inside his pants again, but this time the zipper is open and JC can see what exactly it is that Justin is doing.

...don't mind if I light candles, I like to watch us play and baby I've got on what you like...

Right now, there is no possible cloth that JC likes. He just wants it all off, off, off, and Justin seems to listen to his silent pleas because the jeans are gone. The boxers, the boxers should go, too, because JC really doesn't like them, even begins to hate them the longer Justin is teasing him by letting them hang low on his hip and not doing anything about it.

...come closer, baby, closer, reach out and feel my body...

Oh dear sweet Lord.

The boxers are gone now, and Justin is naked and JC has to trap his hands between his thighs because there's no other way to stop himself from reaching out to touch Justin when Justin is dancing in front of him like that.

...oh baby, don't stop, don't stop...

JC wonders if it is okay for him to touch, now that Justin is straddling his thighs and wriggling around in a way that he has to know drives JC wild. Fucking tease.

...go deeper, baby, deeper...

JC would like to go deeper, and Justin doesn't seem to have any objections, either, his hands running up and down JC's sides, his hips rocking against JC.

...that's the way love goes...

And then Justin's mouth is covering his, and JC doesn't think anymore.


The salmon is delicious. Although now that Lance thinks about it, it's also quite possible that the salmon is horrible and he is just too high on Wade to notice.

High on Wade?

Geez, welcome to Cheesytown.

But Wade is definitely what makes this actually not all that comfortable restaurant - the walls are too white, the tables and chairs too black - seem like the personification of coziness. And is it so bad to fall for someone who is that good of a listener, who is laughing and making little comments at just the right places, is able to tell entertaining stories, asks if his food is okay and most of all, is watching him with undivided, rapt attention as if there wasn't anything in the world he'd rather do with his time?

Maybe there really isn't anything Wade would rather do with his time.

Lance grins, and when Wade asks him for the reason, he shrugs and says that it's just because he's having a great time.


"You," Justin arches up under JC, lifting his back off the soft carpet, "are so born to do this."

"Do what?" JC asks, and as Justin gasps under him because JC just hit his prostate, he seizes the opportunity and bends down to capture Justin's mouth, thrusts his tongue in.

"This," Justin says as soon as he can breathe again.

"This?" JC's thrusts are deep and nasty, and he knows when he hits that certain spot inside Justin, knows it because each time, Justin gasps or moans; little sounds that edge him on, want him to go even deeper, as deep as possible, to bury himself inside Justin.

"Sex." One of Justin's feet is planted flat on the ground, his legs spread shamelessly. The other leg wraps around JC's waist. "You are so born for sex."

"I am?" JC asks, bemused, because last time he checked, Justin was the one radiating sex in everything he did.

"Yes," Justin moans, and then his face goes blank with surprise as his orgasm washes over him.


They are sitting in the car, Wade behind the wheel, Lance in the front-passenger seat, and although the car is parked in front of his house, he doesn't want to get out. Wade sighs, turns the engine off. Glances at Lance, then at the house.

Lance watches him.

"Let's assume," Wade's voice is quiet, "strictly hypothetically, of course, but. Let's assume I kiss you right now. What would you do?"

"Strictly hypothetically?" Lance asks, and Wade nods.

"I'd kiss back," Lance says.

Wade leans over and Lance's lips meet his halfway.


They somehow made it up the stairs and into JC's bedroom before making love for the third time that night, and then they just laid there in a tangled heap of long limbs and smooth golden skin, chests heaving. JC drew up the blankets around them after that, and they drifted off to sleep together.

JC is waking up now, not quite awake, not yet. He's still in that state of half-consciousness were everything is warm and drowsy and heavy. He's vaguely aware of an arm slung around him, of a head resting on his chest, but it takes him a few minutes until he realizes that the arm and the head belong to Justin who is happily sleeping next to him, a smile curving his lips. JC shoots up in bed then, and although he throws Justin's body off of himself, Justin doesn't wake up, just mumbles something into his pillow and is back in dreamland.

Shaking, JC is shaking, and drawing the blanket tighter around himself doesn't help at all. He remembers last night, everything they did, everything they said, each little noise Justin made under him, and although it's wrong and he knows that it doesn't mean anything to Justin, it still turns him on.

Justin has planned this all along, JC knows that. It's always like that with Justin; he'll seek out his victim of the month, and once he or she - because sex doesn't matter to Justin - caves in, Justin is not interested anymore because he got what he wanted. He's not even doing it to be cruel, that's just the way it is. Often, Justin seriously believes that he's in love, only to realize that no, maybe he wasn't in love, not really. Not if there isn't any challenge anymore.

JC knows that he caved in last night, and now he will no longer be of interest.

He doesn't want to wait for Justin to wake up and look at him with those big blue eyes, doesn't want to see him smile and say that it was nice before going home to change for rehearsal. Doesn't want to know that it meant nothing to Justin when it meant everything to him.

So he gets up, pulls on his clothes and disappears quietly, leaves his own house and Justin behind and hopes that when he comes back this evening, it won't hurt as much.


Lance is early for rehearsal because he wants a few minutes alone with Wade, because he has to know how things are between them after that kiss in Wade's car last night, before Lance went up to his house. He thinks that he is the first one, but then he sees that Justin is already there, and that Wade is hugging him, stroking his back. Wade looks up when Lance enters the room, his eyes go wide, and as Lance turns around to leave, he calls after him.

Lance bumps into JC on his way out, and JC doesn't look good, but Lance can't bring himself to care, not now. He can hear footsteps behind him, tries to dodge JC, but Wade catches his arm and forces him to stop. Wade, he notices, says something that sounds a lot like "insensitive bastard" to JC, and then he is steering Lance out of the building, motioning for him to sit down in the grass.

Wade is looking at him with wide, honest eyes. "It wasn't what it looked like, Lance."

Lance wants to believe him, but don't they always say that?

"Well, what is it, then?" he asks, and thinks that it doesn't come out quite as harsh as he intends.

Sitting down next to him, Wade runs a hand through his hair. "Just... let me explain, okay? Without interruption?"

Lance nods.


Justin is already in the room, sitting on the cold floor, his back leaned against the mirrored wall, eyes closed, knees drawn up to his chest. JC wants to leave quietly and hide somewhere, but it's too late because Justin has opened his eyes and is looking at him.

JC sighs, leans against the opposite wall.

"Asshole," Justin finally says, but it doesn't sound menacing.

JC stays silent.

"Where were you this morning?" Justin is watching him, trapping JC with a gaze entirely different from the one he used last night.

"Out," he answers, and looks away.

"Why?" Justin asks.

"Because I had the choice between being left and leaving myself."

Justin's eyebrows shoot up, his face wearing an expression of confusion. "What?"

"Don't play innocent, Justin," JC says, and his hair is falling into his face as he bends his head.

Justin gets up. "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"No, I don't. I wake up after," he takes a deep breath, "after what we did last night, and first I think that maybe you're just downstairs in the kitchen, but you aren't, and the house is empty."

"You think I'm gonna wait for you to tell me that it was nice, thank you, but now you really have to go?" JC is concentrating hard on one of the lights dangling from the ceiling.

"You think I would've done that?" Justin sounds surprised, but JC doesn't want to know what he looks like. The floor is more interesting.

"You always do," he whispers.

"You moron," Justin says, and JC thinks that he seems almost fond, but when he looks up to find out if it's true, Justin is already so close that he can't tell anymore because all he sees are Justin's eyes that flutter shut when their lips meet.


"So..." Lance is having a hard time trying not to laugh. "You helped Justin plan ways to make JC fall in love with him, and you thought that since music and dance are what always gets to JC, Justin should strip for him."

Wade nods, and this time, Lance is laughing out loud.

"You didn't know that all Justin had to do if he wanted to get with JC is say: Here I am, please take me?"

For a moment, Wade just looks at him, then shakes his head, laughs. "No, we didn't know that."

"It's so obvious."

"Well... It wasn't to us."



Lance leans closer. "What did you get in return for helping Justin?"

"He," Wade is studying his hands, "sort of helped me to figure out how to make you my boyfriend."

"And was his tactic successful?"

Looking up, Wade smiles at Lance. "I don't know. Was it?"

"I think so."

They exchange a smile, and then, because making out here where everyone can see them wouldn't go over too well with Johnny, they get up to go inside.


Leaning against the wall, Justin's hands in his hair and on his body, Justin's lips on his, JC can hardly find the strength within himself to stop, but he has to. He places a hand on Justin's chest, pushes him away just slightly. Justin's eyes fly open, and he looks hurt.

"Why are you still interested in me?" JC asks, and for a second, it seems as if Justin doesn't quite get what he's trying to say. Then he smiles.

"Because you'll always be a challenge for me."

And JC knows better than to question that.

Well, I hope that I didn't traumatize anyone by adding Wade to the mix. Thanks for reading! :) Oh, and after sending this out, I'm finally going to answer my e-mails. Just in case you're wondering why I didn't reply yet.

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