Disclaimer: I don't know Nsync. I have No affiliation with Nsync. If Nsync is gay they wouldn't tell me. I bet they aren't. I have no money, so suing me is
pointless. I'm Boney I'm Boney Leave me a LONEY...just seeing if you're even reading this which you aren't... surprise surprise.

Author's Note: Ok, the guys in the chat are making me post this... if you think it sucks, go yell at them... if you think it's good... e-mail me @

By the way: Hi, I'm Willow.

"One Month," Chris said aloud, smiling at himself in the mirror. It had been one month since he made the choice that fixed his life. A whole month. That was sort of an anniversary;  wasn't it?

"Happy birthday to you!" Chris laughed softly, before he slipped the small white cylinder into his mouth. He closed his eyes briefly as he maneuvered the pill to the back of his throat and swallowed it.

He didn't even need water anymore to swallow them, he noted with a sense of victory. His gag reflex was just one more body function he had conquered.

For the first week after it all began, Chris had managed on two pills a day. He never really noticed when it bumped up to three, he merely took one when he needed it.

Now, though, he had a regular schedule. A pill at breakfast, a pill at lunch, then one with dinner.  Three little pills a day helped to keep him going stronger than he had in a long time.

In fact, he'd never felt better. He had so much energy, he didn't know what to do with it all. He'd been trying to harness most of it creatively, but he couldn't help just going insane some times- like that day with the Sesame Street. He'd woken up early and it had been the only thing worth watching on the hotel TV. Somehow, the songs from his youth had stuck in his head and he brought them up all day long.

Chris smiled and looked at himself appreciatively in the bathroom mirror. He turned to his profile and patted his shrinking stomach. He'd never really thought he was fat, but now he just looked so much better than usual that he couldn't help but realize it. He'd lost about ten pounds in the last month.

"And it's all thanks to my miracle diet!" he crowed softly, putting the yellow bottle back into his pocket. It was true too, he just hadn't been as hungry as usual. He had all of the energy and none of the sugar, which was cutting back on the fat entering his system. In fact, he hadn't had breakfast in over a week! If he kept this up, Chris figured he'd be as in shape as Justin in another month or so.

Justin. Now there was a situation that was going well. Along with the energy the pills gave him, Chris also felt his inhibitions slipping, and he'd become much less conflicted by his emotions for the younger man.

That didn't, by any stretch of the imagination, mean that Chris was going to tell Justin anything. Chris felt incredibly comfortable leaving the blond god in the dark and clueless. Things were less messy that way.

Messy. That was a good way to describe what would happen if Chris suddenly blurted out his deepest desires and emotions.

 "Hey Justin! I think you're the smartest, sweetest, coolest, most attractive man I've ever met. Mind if I give you a blow job?" Oh yeah- that would be a terrific idea!


'FUCK! That was NOT a good idea to put into my head!' Justin thought exasperatedly. The thought that one day Chris would just out and say something like that, although adorable, arousing, and sexy as hell, was ludicrous. Completely insane! Justin needed to grow up and stop having these childish fantasies. Him expecting to be with Chris was as likely to come true as one of those stupid and trite 'stories' people were constantly writing about him and some random girl off of the street.

Not that he was bitter.
Justin sighed angrily  as he paced around the room. He borrowed a mantra he'd heard somewhere as he walked.

"Think unsexy thoughts, think unsexy thoughts!"

So he tried. Really, he did! He thought of his grandmother in the shower- that morphed into Chris standing behind him as the hot spray floated over their bodies.

He thought of sick kids in the hospital, which  oddly twisted into the two of them playing "Doctor."

He thought of Rosie O'Donnell. For some reason that conjured up visions of Chris and he on a deserted island, making love as *show tunes*? Played in the background.

Suddenly Justin remembered where he'd heard the comment- an old episode of the Simpsons. It hadn't worked for Homer either.

"Dammit," Justin muttered softly.

'You know?' he thought randomly, 'Chris kinda looks like Homer.' He shook his head, then corrected his thought. 'Looked. Past tense. Man, he's been getting into shape lately. He was always wonderfully put together, but now? Now he's near perfection.'

A knock sounded on the door and Justin panicked. He ran over quickly and looked through peephole.


"Just a minute!" Justin shouted, and raced for his suitcase. He pulled out a long sweatshirt and pulled it on, then headed back to the door.

"Hey gramps!" he cried, flinging the door open. Chris grunted.

"Doofus," he said, rolling his eyes. Inwardly, Chris flinched. 'Why!?' he questioned sadly. 'Why is that all he sees me as? I mean no one's ever cried out 'Who's your Grampa?' in the heat of passion have they?'

"You ready to head down for dinner?" Chris asked, rather than having to voice his thoughts.

"Su-sure!" Justin said, his voice cracking uncharacteristically. "Hungry?"

"Aren't I always?" Chris grinned.

Actually, Chris wasn't hungry at all, but he figured food might help keep his mind off of the titillating image of Justin in the heat of passion that had suddenly flooded his mind.

"Let's go."