by Lesa Soja

Lance said the reason the idea made people nervous was because they were jealous. "'Cause they never really had anyone who wanted what they wanted," he said. "They never had anything so clear-cut."

Justin wasn't exactly sure about the first thing; he'd seen Chris looking at him once before he pulled his shirt down over his back, and he didn't think that was what jealousy looked like. But the rest of it was true - he had his part, and Lance had his, and they were a pretty good match.

They didn't usually do it on tour, partly because Lance was kind of particular about the equipment. "It matters," he said. "Trust me," and Justin tilted his neck into Lance's fingers. So they set up in Justin's bedroom in Orlando and did it there.

Joey came over once to pick Justin up for clubbing and lounged around on the bed while Justin was getting ready. "Hey Jup," he said, "are you gonna put up a hammock?"

"Yeah, maybe," Justin said.

"We need one of those on the bus," Joey said, but there wasn't any way to install hooks on the bus to where they would really stay.

It had started while they were on the road, though, one time when Justin saw Lance watching him in the mirror during one of their frantic pre-show rehearsals, and Lance's eyes looked like they were a hundred miles away from the routine his body was doing.

"Lance," Justin said when they were walking down the hall afterwards, "what were you thinking about in there?"

"You," Lance said. "You were born to move." Justin smiled. "I could teach you how to hold still," and then they were at the door to the meet-n-greet room and Lance held it open for him.

Justin went in and almost collided with JC, who had paused ahead of him. JC turned around and hissed, "Watch where you're going, J!"

"Sorry," Justin said over his shoulder.

They were on the bus that night, and Justin lay awake for a while, thinking. He wasted a little time wondering if Lance had really meant what he thought he meant. But he also thought that Lance knew their schedule better than anyone, Lance who was kind of quiet and saw everything and didn't get swoony when Justin smiled at him, and it was no accident that they were each lying in their own bunks, with Joey snoring right next to them, and several clear hours for Justin to stare at the inside of his curtain.

He went to Lance's room the next night, and Lance smiled and gathered Justin's wrists into one hand and kissed him. "Don't look so scared," he said, but Justin couldn't help it, and said so. Lance put his other hand on Justin's cheek and stroked it. "Hush up, now," he said, and Justin did.

They had gotten a little more elaborate since then, especially when they were at Justin's house. Justin would wait in the hall until Lance called him in, and then Lance took Justin's hands and walked him backwards to the suspension bar.

He wrapped one of the cuffs around Justin's wrist and threaded the strap through the buckle. Lance was in a stocky phase, but Justin had several inches on him, and he'd been working out. He could take Lance, any day. He held out the other hand.

Lance stepped back and studied him. "This is really just a reminder, y'know," he said, and Justin looked up. "This," Lance ran his hand along the bar, "is just to help you focus."

Justin didn't say anything, and Lance went around behind him. "You could be anywhere," he said quietly, his fingers slipping down Justin's back. "You could be on the bus, on the stage, in an interview, and you would do whatever I wanted." His hand stroked up Justin's side and out along one arm, and his knee nudged Justin's legs apart. "Anything I wanted," and Justin sucked in a breath and closed his eyes.

So that was it, that was his part, and it always made him hard - harder each time they did it, heady and trembling till his knees gave way and he almost swung from the cuffs. Lance liked it too, so that was all right. And if Lance's part was just getting started then, that wasn't Lance's fault.