~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chris knew what it was like to pine. He'd grown up as an unremarkable sort of kid, not particularly good looking, a little on the short side, a little poor. He'd been prone to yearning helplessly after beautiful people all his life, and looking back on it from the sanity of so-called adulthood, he could see that it was an essential part of growing up. Misery like that not only built character, it made you more appreciative of good fortune later on.

Other than annoyance that they got the things they wanted so easily, he'd never thought about what it was like for the beautiful people.

But he couldn't help but think about it now. Justin's eyes were huge and hungry in his small face as he watched JC and Joey from the dim sidelines of the musty and damp rehearsal hall. Lance joined them on the stage, laughing at some story Joey was telling, and Chris saw Justin bite his lip and look down, turn away for a moment. When he turned back he had his game face on, posture straight and smile bright as he walked across the stage to join the others.

"Hey," he greeted them cheerfully, already smiling, ready to laugh. "What so funny?"

Joey looped an arm around Justin's shoulders and pulled him close, still laughing. "Don't tell him, Joey," said JC, still clutching his stomach and giggling. "Don't tell him, he's too young." Chris would have missed the change in Justin's face if he hadn't been watching for it, it happened so fast. But the very next moment that smile was back as he kicked Joey's legs out from under him and pounced, going for the ticklish ribs as Joey yelled. He ignored JC, and Chris sighed. He hid it well, but geez, the poor kid had it so bad.

Watching Justin, he thought perhaps there was a danger in growing up too beautiful and graceful. People like Justin, who had always gotten what they wanted, didn't know how to handle being denied. The surge of pity and comradeship was unexpected, and he dismissed the stray thought by launching a sneak attack, leaping onto Joey's back just as he'd pinned Justin to the floor and was going for the kid's armpits.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Yeah, he's a good type, but he's too young. What is he, fourteen? Naw, that's too young. Find someone else. Same type, just a couple years older."

Chris had stared at Lou, stomach churning as he gripped the tape containing Justin Timberlake's MMC performances. He'd been so sure Lou would agree.

He'd gone away, his thoughts in complete turmoil, but he'd been back the next day, with more tapes, and had somehow convinced Lou that Justin was exactly the person they needed. He'd been ready to give up the whole enterprise if Lou hadn't agreed, and the depth of his determination surprised him a little. He barely knew Justin, had only met him a couple of times, and while his fledgling star quality and the depth of his talent had knocked him out he couldn't really put his finger on why it seemed so important that he be their front man. He really was too young, but there was something about him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He had been completely unimpressed with JC.

He had watched with slowly dawning disbelief as they'd entered the diner, Justin leading the way with a huge smile and his graceful, bouncing stride, and the other guy sliding quietly along behind him like a shadow. He had a vague smile and a big nose and foggy, blue-gray eyes, and Chris couldn't see a single outstanding thing about him. This was the guy that Justin touted as an amazing singer, an unbelievable performer? This was the guy that Justin absolutely insisted had to be involved?

Introductions were performed, and Chris asked some questions which were mostly answered by an overly excited Justin. JC seemed almost too relaxed, perhaps half asleep. The seemingly uninterested questions he asked Chris went almost unnoticed as Chris focused on pinning him down. He seemed a little slow, maybe a little stupid, and he certainly couldn't be the sort of dynamic performer Chris knew was needed.

JC yawned until his eyes watered, and frowned intently at his menu. Chris swung perplexed eyes to Justin, and Justin grinned and nodded in a "isn't he fabulous?" sort of way. The kid was all but glowing, giving off sparks. Chris looked back at JC, puzzled. He didn't get it.

Somewhat reluctantly he invited them back to his apartment to try some harmonizing, and took the opportunity to pull Justin aside when JC excused himself to go to the bathroom.

"Justin? What the hell, man. This guy - he's almost comatose!"

Justin had blinked in surprise, then grinned again at Chris. "Oh, he just seems that way! He's kind of shy, and he's quiet but wait 'til you hear him sing man. Really, he's amazing." The grin grew even wider. "Really, man. You'll see."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The change in JC when he sang was indeed astonishing, and Chris had to admit, somewhat grudgingly, that Justin was right. The guy had an amazing voice, a full bodied tenor with an impressive range and soulful delivery. And they sounded really good together, their voices blending well. Perhaps it was the MMC history, but JC's presence seemed to bring out the best in Justin's already potent voice, and he sounded even better than the times Chris had heard him in auditions. Chris watched them, JC's eyes closed as he reached for a high note, smiling just a little, and Justin's eyes, intent on JC's profile.

Yes, JC seemed exactly the sort of performer they needed. But, he found himself thinking as he listened to JC sing and watched Justin's rapt face, he was still irritating.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

JC had been on his cell phone with the woman they snidely referred to as the professional girlfriend for over an hour, and Chris had had enough of watching Justin mope. He'd been unable to distract him with play station, food, or a debate on which were the top of the line basketball shoes this week. Justin was barely answering, his attention completely focused on the murmured conversation going on in the back lounge. His face was settling into serious gloom, and Chris felt his stomach twist in sympathy.

"J. What's up?" Justin jumped and looked abashed.

"You know, just waiting for C to get off the phone." He rolled his eyes. "He was gonna look at this song I had an idea for, like hours ago..."

"Hey, I didn't know you were working on stuff. Can I hear it?"

Justin shook his head, flushing a little. "No, no, it's not anything I can show anybody else yet, really. It's still really rough, ya know?" He looked out the window, chewing his lip and Chris sighed.

"So. I'm thinking, golf." Chris announced it definitively, and was gratified to see Justin look up from his fascination with the passing scenery, attention instantly caught. "I've decided to take up golf. Now that we're rich and can afford those ridiculous course fees, I think it's time." He smiled, satisfied as Justin turned to face him, brows raised.

"You know, my dad plays golf. I thought it always looked really boring on television, but he plays every weekend, and swears it's great" Justin put in, seriously. "And, um, Tiger Woods is really amazing. I mean, it's not just for old people, anymore."

Chris held his eyes. "Well, I don't know where the fuck we're heading today. . ."

"Dallas," Justin interrupted helpfully, starting to smile.

" . . . but there has to be a decent golf course around there somewhere. We could ask Johnny to set us up. I mean, it'd be better than hanging around the hotel, don't you think?"

"Yeah! Yeah, let's do that. That'd be cool." He paused, and glanced toward the back lounge, where JC's quiet conversation with the girlfriend continued. "Do you think C'd want to come?"

The kid looked entirely too hopeful, and Chris suppressed a sigh. "I dunno, why don't you ask him? But wait," he held up a hand as Justin started to vault off the couch. "J, wait until he's off the phone, you think?"

Justin settled back into his seat with an embarrassed nod, and Chris shook his head. But he didn't look quite so glum, and that had been the goal. He turned to Chris with something like his usual smile and picked up the television remote. "Is it Saturday? Maybe there's a tournament on. We could pick up some pointers, yo."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When they finally rated two buses it had been so nice to have the extra space that Chris didn't at first notice the change in the environment. With fewer people in the enclosed space the atmosphere became both less and more complicated. Chris was a little slow to pick up on what those changes were. Not because he was stupid, but because these things were rather unexpected.

It was a long drive between venues. Chris was anxious to return to the paused video game before Justin lost interest and wandered away, but his conference call was taking longer than expected. He rolled his eyes and Justin grinned, shrugged, motioned at Chris to hurry up and Chris nodded.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw JC slide like a wraith out of his bunk and into the tiny kitchen area, and frowned a little as Justin jumped up from the floor and followed him. He heard a low voiced conversation - JC wanted to make tea, and they seemed to be having a discussion about microwave versus stove top water boiling techniques of all things. Chris allowed the voices on his cell phone to drone into background noise and moved closer to the little kitchenette, drawn by the tension in Justin's voice.

JC was moving from cupboard to stove, setting out the box of herbal tea bags, the jar of honey, the mug. Justin was leaning in the middle of the kitchen with his back to the counter, arms braced, watching JC intently as he moved back and forth in front of him. Each time JC passed him Justin leaned a little away from the counter, like a piece of metal drawn to a magnet. Chris would've thought JC was teasing the kid if he'd even been looking at him, but he wasn't. He seemed to be completely absorbed in finding a clean mug, a large spoon, in filling the little kettle. He slid his hand casually across Justin's stomach as he passed, rubbing absently, and Chris saw Justin catch his breath and shudder. JC was babbling aimlessly about how tea needed to be steeped in cold water brought to a roiling boil in a real tea kettle, his voice lazy and gravelly from sleep, and Chris rolled his eyes. JC was in his own little world, as usual. And Justin, well, Chris had thought that the kid was over it by now. Obviously, he was wrong.

He finished his call abruptly and shouted for Justin to get his scrawny ass back onto play station, suddenly exasperated. Justin jumped like he'd been stung by a bee and darted back into what they jokingly called the living room, cheeks flushed. JC passed them on his way back to his bunk, smiling sleepily and Justin turned his head, watching him until he was out of sight down the hallway. He smiled sheepishly at Chris as he turned back to face the television, breathing like he'd been jogging. Chris shook his head in disgust.

Puppy love. It would pass.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It wasn't really on his mind, but he sometimes wondered if JC even knew about Justin's crush. JC wasn't stupid by any means, but as one of the beautiful people he'd perhaps become so inured to other people's admiration that Justin's had simply passed him by.

He watched JC thoughtfully as he sat across the table from him, completely disconnected from the chaos surrounding them. What he'd taken for dimness or just plain space cadet behavior in the beginning had turned out to be a rather awe inspiring ability to concentrate. Chris, who had always been easily distracted, was grudgingly impressed.

"C."

JC didn't even look up, chewing on the end of his pencil as he frowned at his notebook. Chris waited, patiently.

"So, C. Whattaya think about the Orlando Magic? Gonna be a good season, ya think?"

No response. Joey shouted something vaguely obscene about basketball in general and the Magic in particular, and JC switched his pencil to his other hand, tapping out a rhythm on the table. He started biting his nails.

"JC. What do you think about the volatile situation in the middle east? I'm a little concerned about the possibilities of thermo-nuclear war, myself."

Nothing. Chris smiled as JC's mouth starting moving, whispering rhymes. Justin objected to Joey's slur on the fine sport of basketball at the top of his considerable lungs, and JC's pencil stopped its tapping. A nerf ball appeared from nowhere to bean Joey right in the back of the head. Joey announced his intention to get medieval on Justin's ass and dived for the back lounge. Lance bellowed at them all to shut the fuck up as his cell phone rang again.

"C. I wonder, how did you go about inspiring this unholy yearning in our young and vulnerable lead singer?"

JC looked up, blinking. "What?" From the back lounge Justin shrieked "you assholes!!" as Joey and Lance apparently joined forces and went for the extra ticklish armpits, and Chris tipped his head, raised his eyebrows questioningly. JC turned his eyes to Chris.

"I'm sorry, Chris. I wasn't listening. What did you say?" he asked.

"Oh, I was just wondering what you thought of Justin's song writing," Chris said innocently. "It seems like you've been working together quite a bit lately." And JC broke into a huge, eye crinkling smile as he leaned a little closer to Chris.

"Hey, man, don't tell him I said this, because between you and me, Justin sure doesn't need any more ammunition for his ego," he said earnestly. "But really, he just has so much talent, and he's so musical, you know? It's more than having perfect pitch and knowing how to perform a song. I mean, he really feels it, you know?"

JC didn't have a clue. Chris smiled, and nodded.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

JC always insisted on more rehearsal time than anyone else thought they needed. There was only so much preparation that could be done before going on tour, glitches inevitably cropped up and were ironed out in the first few dates of a tour, and you learned to roll with it. JC always insisted that these things wouldn't have happened if they'd been properly prepared.

He did it again as they approached the taping for the holiday special, and this time Justin backed him up. Joey had groaned, Chris had rolled his eyes, and Lance had sighed pathetically, but in the end it hadn't been worth it to battle the two of them, especially since they were presenting what could only be termed a united front. Chris watched JC and Justin as they spoke intensely in the corner, Justin making a point with emphatic hand gestures and hard core eye contact, while JC nodded seriously. He wandered close enough to hear some sort of complex discussion about a re-arrangement for It's Gonna Be Me, and just as quickly back pedaled. He was relieved when his cell phone rang, because there was no way he wanted to get sucked into that one.

Because they'd rehearsed oh so thoroughly, the taping for the holiday special had gone off without a hitch. They'd been on. Really on, all of them, but Justin and JC had been especially on. It was like they'd rehearsed twice as much as the rest of them, their concentration was total, their harmonies perfect.

Leaving the stage, Chris felt the strange exhilaration that always came at the end of a really excellent performance. Joey grabbed his shoulder and shook him as they headed for backstage, thrumming with the same excitement that Chris was feeling, and he looked over his shoulder at Lance, bouncing on the balls of his feet as they shared huge, shit eating grins. "Unbelievable."

Lance shook his head, still beaming. "Amazing."

Chris looked past him to JC, following behind Lance and toweling his neck. He looked up at Chris and winked, all but glowing with happiness. He slapped him a high five as he passed and Chris hesitated in the hallway as he waited for Justin to catch up.

Justin's facial expression was identical to JC's, and he grinned hugely at Chris as he caught up and they started jogging to the van. "Hey man, that was something else!"

Chris nodded, his throat working as he gulped water and wiped his arm across his mouth, and Justin laughed, exuberant. "Bet you're glad now we made you do the extra practice, huh old man?" He dodged Chris's swing easily and sprinted toward the parking lot, giggling, and Chris immediately gave chase, barely registering Justin's use of the terms "we" and "you."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Another photo shoot, and the only thing that made this one more interesting and remarkable was that there were some cool props involved. And not the run of the mill backdrops or location shoots, but real live props. Chris crooned as he ran his hands over the vintage motorcycle and questioned the guy who'd delivered the bikes to the studio. They were beautiful. He wanted one.

"Holy shit." Justin's voice was quiet next to him, almost reverential and Chris turned to him with glee.

"Aren't they gorgeous? I so have to get me one of these." A part of Chris was still disbelieving and incredulous that he could have one. That he could buy anything he wanted. He pictured himself driving down some gorgeous scenic highway a la Easy Rider, and when Justin stepped closer and ran an equally acquisitive hand across the seat of the bike, he allowed himself to picture Justin on that highway too.

"Yeah," Justin said, eyes on the bike, "Yeah, I think I'll need one of these too." His smile was bright and Chris clapped him on the back, pleased.

"You guys. You guys, and your fixations on things with motors." JC's voice was amused, but with somewhat less enthusiasm, and Justin turned to him eagerly.

"But these are vintage, C! Aren't they cool?"

JC nodded, smiling at Justin so his eyes crinkled. "Yeah, very cool."

"We were just sayin', me and Chris, we're gonna get motorcycles. Maybe even take 'em on the road with us this year, wouldn't that be cool?" Chris watched as JC's smile warmed and he wrapped an arm around Justin's shoulders, just like he had when Justin was still shorter and thinner than him.

"Yep, very cool," he repeated. His smile included Chris, and for the millionth time Chris wished he could honestly dislike the guy. "You guys would have a blast, you should do that."

"Maybe you could get one too, C." Justin's voice sounded slightly breathless, like he'd been doing jumping jacks instead of just standing there, looking at motorcycles. "Or, you know, you could ride with one of us. It'd be good. Don't you think?"

"Eh, naw, I never liked motorcycles that much. They're so, I dunno," JC flapped his hand vaguely, "noisy, I guess." His smile lit up his face even more as he looked around the studio. "So, are we gonna do this today, or what?" He gave Justin a squeeze and rubbed the back of his neck as he moved away, and Chris turned his attention back to the bike, aware of Justin standing silently next to him, shoulders slumped.

"So." He didn't even want to look at him, didn't want to see the wounded expression in the blue eyes. "So, J. Which one of these bad boys are you gonna take home?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

TRL had been unusually tiresome, and only the success of "Gone" as a cross over single had made Carson Daly's smugly patronizing attitude bearable. It was in the limo, on the way to their appearance on 106^th and Park on BET that it happened.

Talk had turned naturally to the next single. Game Over had been mentioned, as well as Selfish. But when Justin had suggested Girlfriend for the fourth time there had been an extra edge to his voice that made them all turn to look at him more closely.

"What?" Justin's eyes had been too wide and guileless, and Chris felt his own eyes narrow.

"Girlfriend is good, its really good, Justin. But it's sort of a mid-tempo song, and after "Gone" we should go with something faster. Don't you think?" JC's voice was mild, but sitting beside him Chris felt him go absolutely still, and he found himself holding his breath.

"Well," Justin's voice was entirely too casual as he turned to look disinterestedly out the window, "I don't know who made up those rules, but it seems to me..." his voice trailed off and Chris watched with fascination as a flush crept up Justin's neck.

JC leaned forward and took his sunglasses off. His eyes were completely focused and sharp on Justin's face. "Go ahead," he said levelly. "Go on, tell us why you think Girlfriend should be next."

Lance snapped his cell phone closed and Joey's eyes shifted from JC to Justin and back again, their eyes reflecting the same tension Chris was feeling. Justin's eyes held JC's but Chris saw him swallow hard. What the hell was going on?

"Okay. Um, well, I," Justin hesitated, and JC raised his eyebrows at him. "I kind of made a deal with the Neptunes," he finished in a rush.

JC nodded, as if he'd been expecting it, and his mouth tightened. "Alright. What sort of deal?"

"What? Without talking to us?" Lance seemed more confused than angry. "JC, did you know about this?"

JC never took his eyes off Justin's face. "No," he said very quietly. "No, I did not." Justin flushed and dropped his eyes, his mouth twisting mutinously.

"Ya'll knew that we wanted to work with them," he muttered. "I mean, we talked about that, about getting them to produce something. They said they'd do it, but only if I promised them it'd be a single." He lifted his eyes to focus again on JC, and now Chris saw they were swimming in liquid.

There was silence in the car, the sounds of the street almost completely muffled outside the well insulated doors. Chris felt the tension like a wire wrapping tightly around his neck, and he opened his mouth to do something, say something, when JC beat him to the punch.

"You had no fucking right." Chris had heard JC angry before, had often been amused by how high and whiny his voice could get when he was really outraged by something. But this time his tone was low, vicious, and Chris flinched along with Justin, like he'd been flicked with the tail end of a bullwhip. This wasn't a JC tantrum over dirty towels in his hotel room. "How dare you. I don't care if it is your song. After everything we all went through to get free of Lou, how dare you make a deal like this? Without talking to us?" Justin's breath hitched and two spots of high color flagged on his otherwise pale face.

"Alright. Alright that's enough. We're here." Lance's voice was insistent, breaking into the frozen tableau in the car. "Guys, we're here. We can talk about this later, but we gotta do this now."

JC's eyes still held Justin frozen in immobility. "No. We're not talking about this later." His lip curled, just a bit, and Justin drew back. "We're not talking about this again. But," he leaned forward, getting right into Justin's face, "something like this won't ever, ever happen again. Ever, Justin."

He was the first one out of the limo, smiling and waving easily at the screaming fans lining the sidewalk, and Justin was the last.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was purely by chance that Chris saw Justin outside JC's hotel room door later that night. His hand was up, like he was about to knock, but his head was down, studying the floor. He seemed frozen like that, and he jumped guiltily when Chris rounded the corner and almost ran him over. Justin was chewing hard on his bottom lip, and his eyes were very red.

"You coming or going, J?" Chris took in Justin's hand, still raised in front of JC's door, and raised his eyebrows.

"I gotta, um, I gotta talk to C," he mumbled, studying the carpet again. "I gotta make him understand, I didn't mean to make that deal, it just sort of happened so fast, and . . ." he trailed off, and raised desolate eyes to Chris.

Chris sighed. Justin had apologized to all of them in the limo on the way back to the hotel, and only JC had remained aloof. Chris couldn't remember ever seeing JC so angry. Upset, unhappy, but never this coldly furious.

"You want me to go with you?" He couldn't believe he was saying it. Wasn't it past time for the kid to be fighting his own battles? What was it about Justin that brought out the marshmallow in him?

"No, no, I can do it." He looked truly pathetic and Chris's fingers itched. "I just, you know, I can't stand to have him mad at me. I just can't. It makes me sick." Justin sighed and rubbed his forehead.

Chris fought a strong urge to wrap his arms around Justin, and slapped him on the shoulder instead. "Well, get in there and be a man about it then. C won't punish you, if you're straight with him." He hoped.

Justin smiled, a little watery, and squared his shoulders. "Well, alright then. Here goes."

Chris watched him take a deep breath, and raise his hand to knock. "I'll wait for you, downstairs, if you like," he offered, and Justin nodded.

But Chris waited for almost four hours, drinking in the downstairs bar with the crew, and Justin never showed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was a huge and gorgeous pool area, fully enclosed in this bitter Midwestern climate and full of large tropical plants. The sun shone warmly through the filtered glass and Chris could feel himself unwind as he swam a lazy lap toward the deep end. The hotel had closed the entire pool area and its patio to their other guests and given it over to the band and their crew, and there was a festive and relaxed atmosphere that was increasingly hard to find as tours became more grueling and days off became more rare.

Chris blew water out of his nose and rolled over, lazily backstroking through the clean, warm water and knocked himself head first into JC, treading water silently in the middle of the pool at the six foot mark. Chris changed direction and kicked hard, splashing water directly into JC's face, but JC didn't react. He barely blinked the water out of his eyes and didn't respond to Chris's good natured insult. He was staring fixedly across the pool and Chris backed away a little from the intensity of his gaze, swinging around to see what he was staring at.

Joey, loading a plate from the food table and laughing at a story one of the crew was telling. Justin, asleep in a lounge chair behind dark sunglasses. Lance, a bizarre sight in swim trunks with the inevitable cell phone. Chris wondered absently if he cut Lance's arm off at the shoulder if the cell phone would still hang naturally beside Lance's ear. Nothing to see here, folks. He looked back at JC, almost motionless in the center of the pool. Well, he didn't look like he was fixing to drown.

He pulled himself somewhat unsteadily out of the pool and wandered over to the cooler, uncapping what was probably one beer too many and taking a long drink. He sat in a chair by Justin's motionless form with a sigh and looked around at his friends, his partners, the crew, everybody relaxed, laughing, at ease. Even without the beer it would have been a moment of simple and pure joy. The edges on the day fuzzed, and Chris's eyes half closed as he relaxed.

JC was still bobbing easily in the center of the pool, still staring fixedly in his general direction. He couldn't see what JC was staring at and part of him wondered if he'd simply gone to one of his spacey mental places, right there in the middle of the pool. But JC was completely intent. With his eyes half closed Chris could almost see a thick line, like a clear and shimmering cord stretching from JC's intense blue eyes and unsmiling face to the young man sleeping next to him. The cheerful noise of the party faded away, and Chris felt an unexpected and unwelcome tension curl into his stomach. Beside him, Justin shifted slowly, pulling his arms down from where they'd been crossed over his head and folding his hands carefully over his groin. His face was impassive underneath the dark glasses, but his mouth hung slightly open and as Chris watched his tongue slid out and slowly wet his lower lip. Fuzzily, Chris realized that Justin wasn't asleep, was in fact, far from it.

Chris got up and stumbled quickly back to the cooler. He turned and watched in silence, his throat closing as JC pulled himself from the pool, rubbed a towel slowly over his wet body, and walked slowly over to where Justin was stretched out on his lounge chair. He leaned over him, bracing his arms on the armrests, and Justin tilted his head up. Chris blinked, his breath catching. Then JC shook his wet head, sprinkling Justin with water and they both started to laugh. Chris relaxed. He grabbed two more bottles but when he turned from talking to Lance, Justin and JC were both gone.

He fell asleep in Justin's lounge chair soon after that. On the bus the next day he listened absently to Justin and JC bicker about musical arrangement for a song they were writing, and thought it must have all been a half-drunken dream.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Chris, man. What are you doing?" Joey's smile was the same, but his voice was quiet and he leaned in as he spoke, his voiced pitched so the others down the hall wouldn't hear him.

"What do you mean? I'm gonna go play golf."

"With Justin? Again?" Joey's eyebrows raised and Chris fought against rolling his eyes. He shifted his golf club bag a little higher on his shoulder and turned to face Joey.

"Yeah, if he wants to come along. Hey, Joe, why don't you come along? It'd be good for you to have some fresh air, some sunshine, some exercise..." he broke off and grinned as Joey recoiled in horror.

"No way, man. No. I'm gonna take a nap and we're going clubbing tonight, but Chris," he paused and Chris sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"Joey. What? The kid's been moping for months. Years. I mean, I'm just trying to take his mind off things, you know? You don't have to sit on the bus and watch him brood every day, man, you just don't know."

Joey's eyes were very serious. "Chris. I don't see him moping quite so much these days, if you know what I mean. It's just, dude. Lance and I were talking about this, and, I dunno, are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Chris cut him off, anxious to finish the conversation before Justin met him in the hallway with his own clubs. "What does it matter? And what is the big deal? We're just playing golf, Joey. For Christ's sake. Its golf."

Joey help up his hands and backed up a step. "Okay! Okay, dude, it's really not my business. I just, I dunno, I just thought, you know, if you wanted to talk about it, or switch busses or something, you know..." Chris froze and Joey trailed off as Justin rounded the corner, golf club bag over his shoulder.

"Hey!" he hailed Chris and Joey with a smile. "Hey. Sorry that took so long. They put my clubs in C's room, I dunno why..." he stopped with a jaunty smile and raised his eyebrows at Chris. He was flushed, eyes sparkling, looking every inch the golden one the press painted him to be. Chris looked away, immediately. "We good to go, man?"

Chris nodded and headed for the elevators, grateful not to have to look Joey in the eye.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"I just wanted to know who is your closest friend within the group?"

Chris restrained himself from groaning at the question he'd heard at least a hundred times and readied the stock answer about how close they all were, how they all had things in common, how they'd been through so much together that they were more like family than friends, although they were friends too. Nobody was more surprised than he when his mouth opened and "Oh, Justin I guess," came out. "I mean," he continued, "we have the most in common, really."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He wasn't due in the studio until 11:00, but Justin hadn't been answering his cell phone, and motorcycle riding wasn't as much fun without him. He couldn't believe he was heading to his least favorite place almost three hours early, but hell, he was bored.

He sighed as he turned his bike into the studio parking lot. Nearly deserted at this hour of the morning, especially on a weekend. Except for JC's jeep, of course.

Always the first to arrive and the last to leave when it was studio time. JC had proven himself a fabulous performer, precisely as Justin had promised all those years ago, but Chris thought his true talents lay here, in the studio. And JC's ability to concentrate and his precise attention to detail was a good thing in the long run, certainly, but it tended to make Chris crazy when he would hunch over the sound console with headphones on, fingers on the dials, frowning as he listened to the same four second byte over and over and over again. How could anyone sit still for that long?

Yesterday's session had lasted an eon. Chris had been convinced that he was going to grow old and die, right there in that room as JC had listened repeatedly to a piece of tape, insisting that he could hear a burr that the sound engineers could not. Justin had tried to convince JC to give it a rest, sleep on it, try again the next day, but JC simply shook his head distractedly, his eyes never lifting from the buttons and dials and gauges before him. Justin had smiled resignedly at Chris and waved them all out the door. Chris had glanced back to see Justin settling in beside JC, his face absorbed.

He entered the studio and stopped. JC was there, still hunched over the console and he'd at least been home at some point because he was wearing different clothes than the previous day. What surprised Chris was that Justin was with him. And was wearing a too small tee shirt in a shade of lavender that could only belong to JC. Chris did a double take out to the parking lot. Only JC's jeep, and his own motorcycle. The sound engineers weren't even there yet. He caught the door before it could slam, and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at the two men at the console.

Men. Justin hadn't been a boy for a long time now, but that fact had never seemed so apparent to Chris as it did now. He watched Justin lean forward, muscles thrown into relief as his forearms braced against the console, his face and entire body slanted toward JC. JC was seated, his back to Chris as they hunched over a piece of sheet music covered with scribblings, talking quietly to each other as JC made notations. They weren't touching, were communicating only in a series of hums and grunts and nods and facial expressions and a person would've had to be blind to miss the ease and intimacy in their posture. JC hummed a bar, Justin listened intently, they referred to the sheet music again and Justin took the pencil from JC's fingers, making notes in the margin as he hummed the same bar. It was meticulous, painstaking, beyond slow, and the process involved the sort of hard core attention to minute detail that made Chris want to run screaming from the room. But for all their incredible performance abilities, here JC and Justin were in their element, and for perhaps the first time, Chris truly understood. It wasn't that they had so many things in common, it was that they had this one, overwhelming thing in common. Music was more than what they did. It was what they were. And long before he met Chris, Justin had seen something in JC's eyes that meant he would never see anyone else.

JC ran his hand almost absently up the back and inside of Justin's thigh and rested his head sideways against his hip, eyes still on the sheet music. Justin smiled a little, wondering, incredulous, like a kid on Christmas morning as he shifted closer to JC, slipping his free hand carefully over his hair.

And Chris, finally, had seen enough. He backed out of the room as quietly as he'd entered, leaving them alone. He paused briefly outside the studio and rubbed his eyes, and couldn't help but laugh a little at himself, and his apparently intact ability to long for something he had no business having.

He revved up his motorcycle and decided there were plenty of better ways to spend the morning then to hang around somewhere he wasn't really needed, not for three hours anyway. He sped away, along the brightly lit highway and thought about love, and longing, and beautiful people getting what they wanted and perhaps what they deserved. The sun felt good on his shoulders, and the highway was clear and the scenery was beautiful, and only a part of him wondered when it would be time for the ordinary, unremarkable people to get theirs.

~ End