Date: Wed, 19 Jul 2000 21:47:21 EDT From: That's The Way I Like It Subject: gay/celebrity/boy-bands/fitting-in/ Fitting In Chapter 3 I'm back! Thanks to everybody who's written to me with feedback on this and my other two stories on Nifty, "Changes" and "By My Side." I really appreciate every comment and suggestion! A reminder, this is a Backstreet Boys/'N Sync crossover story, and in this one, they are not in "vocal harmony groups" and I have changed many important details about their backgrounds. I hope you like. As always, don't read if you have a problem with gay sex. It's just fiction. Don't worry ... in reality, they're all devout virgins, saving themselves just for you. ;-) CHAPTER THREE "I'm trying to change to a different dorm room," Howie said, following Nick's eyes as he glared across at his boyfriend, who was chatting up the sweet young thing Howie had come in with. "Who were you stuck with again?" Nick asked without looking at Howie, gulping down his third cup of beer. "A.J. McLean. You know him. He's a complete freak." "Doesn't ring a bell." "Nicky, he's been in school with us for years..." Howie gave up on trying to get sympathy from his old friend, who was clearly preoccupied with some lovers' spat he was having with Lance. Instead, Howie allowed himself to scan Nick's tall, well-proportioned body, his high, round butt and long powerful legs, his well-shaped hands and his full, pouting lips. Howie let out a small sigh at the impossibility of his attraction to Nicky Carter. The gorgeous blonde would *never* be interested in him "that way." Joey Fatone approached the pair of them with a curious look on his face. Why were his buds looking so down? It was the first party of the new school year. Normally everybody was bragging about their summers. "Hey Nicky," Joey said, laying a heavy arm over his shoulders. "Howie." "Huh," they both grunted back. Somehow, Justin had been slowly inched back as he talked to Lance, and he was in a back corner of the cellar, almost a cubby, mostly hidden from the rest of the open floor space. It was hard to control his excitement; not only was Lance talking to him, and only to him, he seemed to be openly flirting. Lance leaned one arm on the wall next to Justin and gave him a quick visual once-over. Their conversation continued in fits and starts, pausing occasionally as they gave each other meaningful looks. It was clear that Lance liked to be in control of things, but Justin didn't feel intimidated by him. It was too erotic to be irritating. "Basketball, huh," Lance smiled. "That's great. So exciting to watch. I'm not so good at it myself. You'll have to give me lessons." "That could be fun," Justin smiled back. "A little one-on-one." "Oh yes," Lance smirked, "an excellent idea." He traced his fingers down the wall and moved closer still. There was nowhere left for Justin to move. "I'll have to come up with a way to pay you back," Lance half-whispered. "Maybe there's something I can teach you." Justin didn't care if the lines were cheesy; he wanted this. He closed his eyes and felt Lance's lips brush against his. Justin slid one hand around Lance's waist and drew the blonde close; he lost himself in the kiss, swirling his tongue against Lance's and feeling the sexual rush lift him out of his surroundings. They were both so wrapped up in what they were doing that they didn't notice a slight stir at the other end of the room, as J.C. made his presence known. J.C. had seen enough from his position crouched outside one of the back windows with Kevin. Lance was up to his usual shenanigans, toying with some poor underclassman, and it seemed like the perfect moment to come waltzing back in to Clarkville Academy. J.C. trotted around to the secret entrance and slid himself in. He decided not to delay the suspense, and walked right over to his arch- enemy, who was sitting on the couch sucking down beer and looking like a beaten puppy. The ever-alert Howie noticed him first, and let out a gasp which silenced the entire room. Nick choked on his drink. "Greetings, blondie," J.C. smirked. "We meet again." Nick gaped at him stupidly. "What are you doing here?" Howie yelped. "Josh Chasez," Joey said, a hand on each hip. "You've sure got balls showing your face around here." "Oh please," J.C. said. "As if any of you even believe the crap that this airhead" - he waved a hand dismissively at Nick - "cooked up." "Look, I don't want to hear it," Joey said belligerently. "You don't come in here and mess with my friends." "Yeah," Howie said, sort of out loud. "Nick's the one who was slinging the mud," J.C. said with a shrug. "But I guess he didn't care enough about Lance to try and protect his reputation when he was trashing mine." "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," Nick scowled, standing up unsteadily. He wasn't much of a drinker, and the beer had made him very woozy. "Don't listen to him," he said generally, waving his arms around wildly, "he's a liar! And a boyfriend stealer, too!" J.C. laughed. "Go take a cold shower, you lightweight." He was about to turn around to look for Lance when he found himself eye to eye with Joey. "This is my party," Joey said, "and I'm asking you to leave. I'm asking you nicely the first time." "Fine," J.C. shrugged. He turned around to give his parting blow to Nick. "Tell Lance I'm waiting for his call. I mean, if you even get to sleep with him tonight." He strutted back to the window, turned on his heel, and stuck his tongue out at all of them. "Whatever!" Howie said, rolling his eyes. "He is *so* immature." He heard a loud sniffling sound, and turned around to see that Nick had curled up into a little ball on the couch and was starting to cry. "Oh! Nicky!" Howie looked around the room nervously. This was all so embarrassing... He patted Nick on the shoulder timidly. "Asshole," Nick moaned. "I'm sorry! I was only trying to help!" "He means J.C.," Joey said, doing his best not to laugh. "Come on, D, help me bring Nicky over to the bedroom. Somebody had a few too many beers tonight." Howie nearly had a heart attack at the concept of being in a bedroom with Nick and was all too eager to assist with this task. "Okay, you take off his shoes," Joey said once they had Nick on the bed, "I'll go get a bucket or a trash can or something." "What for?" Howie asked, contemplating how to get Nick's shoes off without offending him. "Hehe, funny," Joey said, and he left. Howie shrugged. Why a bucket? Odd. He methodically loosened the laces on Nick's shoes, but jerked away when he heard the blonde moan again. "Are you okay, Nicky?" "What're you doin'?" Nick mumbled irritably. "I was ah, taking your shoes off, so you'll be more comfortable." "Ohhh," Nick replied. Howie sat on the bed, without the nerve to say anything more or touch him again. "You're a nice friend," Nick said at last. "Oh... Thanks." Howie blushed. "Hey Howie?" "Yes? Nicky?" "I kinda think I'm gonna barf..." Lance squeezed Justin's ass and kissed him on the lips. "Hang on one second," he said. "I am just going to check on something." Justin nodded, his face flushed and his cargo pants bulging. "Don't go anywhere," Lance smirked, adjusting his own bits and pieces as he trotted over to find his boyfriend. A quick scan of the main room didn't contain Nick, and Joey came over when he saw Lance standing by the couch looking confused. "He's in the bedroom," Joey said darkly. "Oh really," Lance frowned. "With who, might I ask?" "Howie," Joey said, folding his arms across his chest. "Howie ... DOROUGH?" If Lance had been drinking, it would have sprayed out of his nose. Thankfully he was not drinking. "Yeah," Joey said, "now listen Lance. He's-" "I don't want to hear it!" Lance said loudly. He could feel his face turning red. "No, you don't understand! He was upset because-" "Just forget it," Lance said dramatically. "I'm leaving, and I'm taking Justin with me!" "Oh, for goodness..." Joey wiped his hands over his face, and then decided to go and talk to some other people for a change and take a nice big step away from the land of Lance and Nick. In the meantime, Lance hurried back over to Justin and grabbed him by the hand. "Come on, let's get out of here," he said. Justin didn't need to be asked twice, and he followed Lance out of the cellar and across the athletic fields to the dorm where Lance lived. On the way over, they were quiet, both of them trying to sort through a few things in their heads. What are you doing, Justin was asking himself. Sure, you like this guy, and you want him, but do you really want to just hop into bed with him? After all, he told himself with a blush, it's not like you have any real experience. You will probably make a fool out of yourself. Lance seemed so worldly and sophisticated to Justin. At the same time, Lance was thinking angry thoughts about his dear sweet boyfriend. What was Nick's problem? He was acting so strange about this thing with Justin. They'd played this game before. So why was Nick making trouble? He was supposed to be involved tonight, not running off with Howie, of all people. At some level, Lance knew that it wasn't right to toy with people's emotions, although he had no idea that it upset Nick. But manipulating people made Lance feel like he was controlling some small part of the universe. Otherwise, he was nothing at all, powerless and weak. Lance hated feeling that way. That was why Nick was so perfect for him. Nick always let Lance take control; he got off on it just as much as Lance liked to be the dominant partner. It was meant to be. So why was Nick behaving like such a baby? Well, at least Nick wasn't screwing around with Kevin. Lance wasn't threatened by Howie, that was for sure. "I'm going to use the little boys' room," Lance said to Justin as he switched on the light. "Be right back." "Okay," Justin said, his voice sounding scratchy and almost breaking. He sat gingerly on the edge of the huge bed which dominated Lance's room. There were a few artifacts of academic life here and there; a stack of textbooks, a miniscule, extremely chic laptop, and a little wire cup full of what appeared to be freshly sharpened, probably never-used, number two pencils. How quaint, Justin smiled. He padded over to the stereo and turned it on; a mellow kind of bluesy jazz filled the room. The room smelled faintly of cologne. Justin's heart was racing with the excitement of it all. A couple of family pictures in silver frames beckoned, and Justin snuck a peek. To his surprise, no moms or grandmas or bratty younger siblings populated the pictures. They were all of Lance and another blonde teenage boy, with silly grins on their faces in one picture, and posed with their arms around one another in the other. Justin jumped back nervously from the photographs when Lance re-entered the room. "What are you looking at, sweetie?" Lance murmured, slipping his arms around Justin's waist and kissing his neck, unconsciously repeating his actions with Nick earlier that day. "Just checking on how sharp your pencils are," Justin replied cockily, turning around to face Lance and pulling him into a more erotic French kiss. If that was an ex, Justin thought to himself, he was definitely very good-looking, but Justin planned to erase him from Lance's memory banks that night. Brian sat up in bed, irritated, and yanked on a pair of shorts. "I've gotta get some fresh air," he thought to himself. He wasn't able to sleep, and every time he checked the time, he saw Justin's empty bed across the room from him, the sheets rumpled and cold. It was foolish to take it personally, and the reasonable, logical part of Brian's mind knew that, but the greater part of him was needy, hurting and lonely, and every minor abandonment seemed to add to the pain in his heart. Five minutes later, Brian Littrell was jogging down the wooded pathway, lit by the moon overhead. He wanted to keep moving and do so quickly and quietly, since campus curfew didn't allow them to go wandering around at all hours unless they had a damn good reason to do so. The last thing he needed was to start getting into it with the school officials. Finally, Brian got to the dirt road which led to the highway. If he walked nearly to the end of this road, there was a convenience store which was theoretically open all hours. Brian figured he'd get a coke, maybe play a video game, and then walk back. So what if he was out in the middle of nowhere, ripe for the plucking if any hungry bears or pedophiles came out of the woods? Brian figured his bad mood would keep everybody smarter than a clod of dirt at a respectful distance. He marched along, his head down, until he heard an obnoxious rumbling sound getting louder and louder. It was unmistakeably a muffler-free motorcycle; what kind of asshole is out riding a motorcycle around out here? Brian asked himself. I don't even want to think about it. In a matter of seconds, the bike was coming close enough that he could see the rider. A tall looking guy with a helmet on, how nice, he won't get his brains splattered all over the highway when he meets his inevitable gory fate, Brian thought. The rider slowed the bike and pulled it around to a stop beside him. "Hey," he said, "ya need a ride somewhere?" Things were moving very fast in Lance Bass' bedroom. He and Justin were in bed together, with the lights dimmed to one soft bulb, clothes removed, hands running along each other's bodies and lips tasting tender flesh, raising goose bumps as well as the blood pressure in certain erogenous zones. Justin felt himself beginning to lose control, and he pulled back a bit from Lance, keeping the blonde at arm's length. It was rather funny to see him with his eyes closed, trying to pucker up and continue to plant little smooches on Justin's chest, when he was too far away to reach. Finally his pretty green eyes were open, and Justin was greeted with a concerned expression. "Baby, what's wrong? You don't like how I touch you?" He had a voice that could melt the underwear off a nun, and Justin felt himself actually tremble whenever Lance spoke. "No, no, I like it, I just want to take things nice and slow," Justin smiled widely. People always complimented him on his smile and on his deep blue eyes, and so he hoped that Lance would respond to this direct frontral assault. No such luck. Lance shimmied closer and ground his hips right against Justin's erect cock. "We got all night," Lance said, and he licked his tongue very slowly across Justin's lips. "Ohh," Justin moaned, scrunching his eyes tightly shut and trying to picture his grandmother watering the flowers, in the nude ... anything to keep his orgasm at bay! Lance smiled to himself; this boy was such a pushover. So horny, and so adorably inexperienced. He was about to blow his wad and Lance figured he'd make this fun, and prove to Justin that he wasn't going to be able to control anything about their sexual interactions. "Just relax," Lance hummed in Justin's ear, pressing a hand on either of the taller boy's shoulders to lie him flat on his back. Justin's cock stuck straight in the air, bobbing slightly as he adjusted himself on the bed. Lance licked his lips. It was a fat one, and he had a sudden urge to swallow it, but he stuck to his plan of action, and instead, he breathed out warm air on one of Justin's nipples, licked it roughly to make it as wet as he could, and then pursed his lips and blew another blast of air at it. The alternating hot and cold stimulation on Justin's very-over-stimulated self had the exact effect Lance was hoping for. The boy's eyes flew open as he let out a loud groan and clutched at the sheets, his dick volleying an impressive load of cum into the air. Lance sucked Justin's neck while the younger boy grabbed his pulsing cock with one hand and pumped it as he shot several more times, grunting and bringing his knees up, letting the warm sticky fluid cover his chest. "Oh god," Justin moaned, turning his head to kiss Lance fiercely. "Now who's moving too fast," Lance smirked as he pulled away, "you quick shooter, you..." "So I guess you are the honourary class rebel," Brian smiled at Kevin. They were sitting together near the side of the road, the motorcycle parked beside them. "I guess you could say that," Kevin nodded. "I just do my own thing. I'm not really trying to have a certain look or anything." "I'm just teasing," Brian shrugged. "That's neat that you're from Kentucky too, though. Who would have thought that was gonna happen." "There are kids here from all over, but mostly from the South," Kevin nodded. "Hey, I'm just glad Mr. and Mrs. J didn't send me somewhere up in New Eng-a-land or something," Brian grinned, purposely exaggerating his drawl. "Oh hell no," Kevin said, and they both laughed. "Seriously though, I've had my share of problems with this place. If it wasn't for my dad, I wouldn't even be here." "What do you mean? He wants you to get into Harvard or something?" "He would have, yeah." Brian leaned his head to one side and studied Kevin. The boy had a tough kind of look, but his green eyes were moist and he bit his lip as he struggled to keep himself together. "When did he pass away?" Brian asked more quietly. "Just last year," Kevin half-whispered. He cleared his throat and then spoke more normally, "he had cancer. We thought he had it beat, but it came back stronger the second time. It's a bitch..." He picked up a twig and threw it angrily into the road. "I'm sorry, man," Brian said, and he put an arm around Kevin's shoulders and let it rest there, hoping to give him some creature comfort. Kevin appreciated this small gesture tremendously, and he shook his head in disbelief. It was amazing how much difference a little bit of kindness makes in a person's life. "Were you and your dad real close?" Brian asked softly, hugging Kevin to him just slightly. "We were real tight," Kevin said, fighting the tears back again. "It's so hard when your life gets split in two like that, when the past is so... over." "I hear you," Brian said, "believe me, I hear you." The longer that Justin was in Lance's bed, the more insistent the little voices in his head became, rather than the other way around. Who was that guy in the picture? Was Lance making fun of him just a minute ago? Was he being used? Was he really ready to be doing this? Before he knew it, he was forced to make a decision. Justin found himself turned around in the bed with Lance's cock against his face. The older boy was running his hands through Justin's unruly bunch of curly hair. This boy was very cute, but Lance did really wish that Nick could have been there. Nick gave such amazing blow jobs. He pictured his boyfriend sucking him expertly, looking up at him with love and humour in his eyes... A little pang struck at Lance's heart; he missed his honey bunch pookie pie. Well, they'd have to work things out tomorrow. Nick had some explaining to do, after all. Howie Dorough? Lance shook his head; this was not the time to think of Howie, who seemed to function as a sort of anti-Viagra for him. Instead, Lance whispered to Justin, stroking his back. "Don't you want to taste me, baby?" Justin stared at the erect penis. He'd never been that close to one before. Even his own. It was a bit scary looking. He'd made out with guys before and jerked them off, but never given head. I don't even know where to begin, Justin said to himself. Full of doubt, he shut his eyes and opened wide. Lance guided the head of his dick into Justin's mouth and let him adjust to the size of it. But Justin felt like he couldn't breathe, and in fact, violated. This felt really wrong. He backed away and turned himself around so that he was facing Lance. "I don't know if I'm ready to do this," he said frankly, although his voice was timid. "What?" Lance was taken aback. "You're not ... ready?" He tried to keep the irritation out of his voice, but Justin was already getting out of bed and picking his jeans up off the floor. "This is too weird for me. I'm sorry. Lance... I just ... I can't." Justin snatched up his shirt and shoes and bolted, leaving Lance Bass, the master manipulator of Clarkville, sitting there in shock with a massive boner and only his five-fingered friends to take care of it. Howie rolled over in bed, uncertain of where he was. The room didn't have the familiar scent of his own habitat, and when he opened his eyes, he realised that he was still in the cellar bedroom. With Nicky Carter. The blonde was curled up against him, his face buried in the pillows, sleeping peacefully. Howie felt his morning wood pulse a little harder. Probably best to just pee and get it over with, he told himself, and he got out of bed and stood for what seemed to be an eternity in the bathroom before he could relieve himself. Howie walked back into the bedroom and gazed at the young Adonis in repose. This was probably one of those occasions where he had some vague chance in hell of making a move on Nick, if he had any clue how to go about doing it. He'd had them before. Howie had known Nicky since they were in elementary school. He'd been very much the same, he just didn't highlight his hair. Howie liked to think that he had changed dramatically, but aside from getting contact lenses, he was probably very much the same to his long-time crush. The good thing about Nick was that he was a very nice person. He never brought up the embarrassing things that Howie had done over the years, and he always seemed to forgive the little indiscretions, like the time Howie had come to visit Nick for a long weekend many summers ago. Nick's parents had a house on an island in the Gulf of Mexico, and they had been left alone for the day while Mr. and Mrs. Carter went off on some boat buying expedition. Nick liked to sleep late and Howie had sat around fretting all morning, waiting for him to get up, and had finally been discovered locked in a bathroom, sobbing, because he'd prepared an elaborate brunch for Nick which had, of course, gotten cold and/or burned while blondie lay there snoring away. Howie let out a plaintive little sigh. "So did you have a good time last night?" Justin didn't turn around right away to answer Brian's loaded question. He had no idea what to say, in any case. He shoved a baseball cap on over his hair. "I guess," he mumbled. "So do you wanna go down and grab some breakfast?" "Yeah," Brian smiled. "That sounds great." Brian wondered if he ought to tell Justin about meeting Kevin. Probably not, since he'd hinted pretty strongly last night that he didn't really want Justin to go out, and then he'd look like a jerk if he'd gone out anywhere. Better to have Justin think he was sitting around all night pining. Or was it? For his part, Justin figured that nobody needed to know about his awkward encounter with Lance. He hoped that by some strange coincidence, he would never have to run into him for the rest of the school year. Wouldn't that be nice! He was so hot, though... The dining room seemed to be missing many people that morning, although all the people who hadn't been invited to Joey's and Lance's party were there. Justin filled his plate from the buffet and scanned the room for Brian. His roommate was sitting down with the strangest looking kid at Clarkville, A.J. McLean. Justin had to smile to himself. It was pretty clear that Brian didn't care who the cool people were or if he was associating with the right crowd. So unpretentious. "Good morning," Justin smiled at A.J., who nodded, chewing. He wasn't sure why the kid needed to wear sunglasses indoors, but whatever. "So I heard you hooked up with Lance last night," A.J. said. Justin managed to choke on his orange juice and Brian had to hit him on the back a few times before he got his throat and windpipe sorted out. "Oh hey Kev," A.J. said to a tall guy who joined them at the table. "So I heard you and Bri got acquainted out in the woods last night. What's the 411?" Brian and Justin stared at each other across the table. So much for discretion.