| DON'T THINK I'M NOT 5 |
| Lance woke up, his arms tingling. He'd fallen asleep on the tiny sofa in his hotel suite, choosing to let Justin stay on his bed. Actually, it wasn't a choice. The kid was passed out cold, and no amount of pushing or prodding was getting that boy up. "Damn," Lance groaned, shaking his hand. It wasn't the only part of him that was squished and uncomfortable. Slowly, he sat up, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The confusion from the previous evening clouded his thoughts and he sat there quietly for a moment, trying to digest it all. Joey had caught them. Only he didn't know he caught them. But Joey had indeed been caught, once again. Lance almost laughed at the thought. One would think that Joey would be smarter by now, having been nailed in these types of situations for a while now. There wasn't one N Sync crew member who hadn't walked in on the guy in some kind of sexual tryst with a woman. Suddenly, he heard the sick moans of his friend, then the unmistakable sound of vomit hitting the floor. "Shit!" Lance yelled, jumping up. He hurried to the bed, just in time to see Justin's head leaning over, expelling the previous night's alcohol, and dinner. "God, right on my sneakers!" Lance cried, staring at them. Justin laid there like a rock, unmoving, just moaning in pain. "Lance," he croaked. "I'm gonna be sick again." Quickly, Lance grabbed the trash can and put it under his head. Every time Justin drank, he threw up. When would he learn? Well, he was buying him a new pair of sneakers, that was for shit sure. Lance stared at the soaked leather shoes and shook his head. "I don't feel good," Justin complained, finally rolling over slowly onto his back. Lance sat on the edge of the bed, feeling quite unsympathetic. "It's your own fault," he said, resting his head in his hands. "And who the hell were those two girls you brought here last night?" Justin blinked, his eyes felt like they were on fire, and his stomach rolled. He tried to recall girls, but none came to mind. "Huh?" he managed, before rolling over and vomiting again. "Jesus!" Lance jumped up, moving away from the spray. "Justin, get up! Go into the bathroom if you're gonna keep doing that!" Justin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and laid back down. His eyes rolled back, and he fell into an exhausted slumber once more. Lance was loosing his patience. There was no way Justin was not going to tell him exactly what he knew, drunk or not. He pursed his lips in disgust and made his way into the bathroom. Thankfully, they were leaving this morning, so the hotel would have to clean up Justin's little mess. When his shower was done, he knotted a towel around his waist and went back into his room. Justin was sitting up, more like propped up, against the headboard, cradling his head in his hands, his face an odd shade of grey. Lance bit back a chuckle, being hung over wasn't really funny, but they way Justin looked, well that was precious. "Feeling better?" he asked innocently. "Fuck you," the response came, hushed, but firm. "Oh, it's fuck you now is it?" Lance laughed, digging through his overnight bag for some clean clothes. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a long sleeved tee shirt. "Last night it was all fun and games, dragging girls to my room, telling me you know what I do." He turned to look at his sick friend. "What did that mean, J? You know what I do?" His eyes stayed focused on Justin, waiting for his response. And he sincerely hoped it was a good one. Justin looked up slowly, trying to avoid the pain in his temples from growing worse. A guilty look flashed through his blue eyes, which were now unceremoniously red rimmed and very bloodshot. He shrank back under Lance's glare, and cursed himself for getting drunk and spilling what he knew. Lance was staring so hard at him, he felt as if he was going to crumble right there. He lowered his head once more, resting it against his knees and bit his lip. Lance was going to kill him if he told him the truth about what he knew, literally kill him. Lance did not like the look in Justin's eyes, not one bit. The kid sucked at lying, and Lance could always tell when he was hiding something. Hiding something he was, and a feeling of dread washed over his body. "Justin!" he snapped loudly. "Tell me what the hell you were talking about last night! Now!" "Oh, god, I was just talking shit. I was drunk. I don't remember what I meant." Okay, he was lying, but trying to protect himself. Lance could be truly vicious when he wanted to be. Pulling himself up out of the bed, Justin stepped right in the vomint, barely batting an eyelash. In one continuous move, he peeled the dirty sock off, tossing it in the trash, and moved toward the door. "You going to breakfast?" he asked, running his fingers through his hair, trying to avoid the conversation. Lance jumped in front of him, blocking the way. "Un uh! You fucking tell me what you know, and now," he hissed, pointing his finger in Justin's face. "I swear, you tell me now!" The anger was bubbling over, and the truth was, Lance was scared. Justin was a blab as it was, but under the influence of alcohol, well forget it. If the truth did get out, they were in serious trouble. Justin sighed and looked into Lance's face. He knew that his friend wasn't fooling around. He wanted answers and now. "Alright," he conceeded quietly, brushing Lance's finger away. "I know about you and Joey's fiance. I know you two are fucking around." There, he'd said it. Sensing the foul mood radiating from the person in front of him, Justin moved back. "I didn't mean to find out," he defended himself, watching as Lance made a fist. "I just happened to walk in on you guys the first time, and then....." Lance jumped into his face, green eyes glowing with rage. "The first time?" Justin bit his lip, his face contorting uncomfortably. "Uh, well...." "You've been watching us?" Lance screamed, incensed. His fist landed just inches above Justin's head, cracking the plaster in the wall. "Shit! Lance, it's not what you think. I didn't mean to keep watching, it just became like a game or...." Justin scurried away, fearful that the next punch would land in his face. He scrambled for the door, praying he could get away, let Lance cool down, then maybe try to explain things better. As he grabbed the door knob, he felt hands jerk him backwards, tearing his tee shirt. His body tensed up, preparing for a punch, and he closed his eyes, not daring to peek. Lance growled in frustration, tossing Justin back onto the bed. "You baby!" he grumbled, "I'm not gonna hit you. Be a fucking man and open your eyes." Justin did so with caution, unsure of what was going to happen next. Lance sank down in the bed next to him and tapped his foot. "You have to tell me exactly what you saw," he explained, carefully. He looked into Justin's eyes to let him know the intensity with which he spoke. "Exactly." Justin nodded numbly, and resisted the urge to rub at his temples, which tormented him with their throbbing. A knock at the door sent Lance rushing for it. "Stay right there," he commanded, opening it. There she was, Joey by her side, both grinning like fools. Lance cocked his head to the side. "I take it you made up?" he asked casually, taking in the site of the two of them, post sex glows radiating. "Yeah, and I just wanted to say, no hard feelings okay?" Joey extended his hand, leaning in for a hug when Lance took it. "Sorry about flipping out in the club. I know I did wrong, and she's sweet enough to forgive me." Lance sighed, amazed that the two of them could continue with such phoniness. He cringed at the thought of them bringing kids into the world. That would be a frightful sight for sure. She gazed up at him, her features fresh and her good girl face on. "Lance," she said brightly, touching his arm, "Thanks for taking me out last night. If I hadn't caught Joey, we would have never talked things out. So, thanks." She leaned up and kissed him chastly on the cheek. "Isn't she the best?" Joey pondered aloud, hugging her to him. "Anyway, you coming down to breakfast?" Lance nodded, his lips curling up into a grin. "Yup. I got Justin in here. We'll be right there." He watched as the "happy" couple laughed and giggled their way down the hall to the elevators, kissing one another and whispering little I Love You's. Shaking his head in disgust, he shut his door and returned his attentions to Justin. "So, you tell me what you know, and now." Justin sighed, forcing the bile in his throat back down. "Fine. I saw you guys under the stage in Los Angeles." He paused, feeling the waves of nasuea overcome him. When it passed, he continued. "She was ah, giving you a..." Lance searched his memory. LA? Oh, LA! Under the stage. The blow job. He smiled, then remembered he was pissed at Justin. "Yeah, so you watched? You stood there and watched it?" "I didn't mean to. I was just there, and I didn't beleive what I saw." His blue eyes pleaded with Lance. "I swear, man, I didn't mean to." "Yeah, whatever. So what else did your little idiot Timberlake eyes not mean to see?" Justin, however sick he was, did not enjoy being talked to like that. "Fuck you!" he spat, standing up. "You're a pain in the ass anymore. If you want to fuck over your friend, well, fine. But don't be an asshole to me! And don't take a better than thou attitude." He stormed over to the door, shoving Lance aside. "I know what you're doing, and you just better realize that if I know, who the hell else knows?" Lance stood there in shock as Justin fled the room. He didn't expect that outburst, especially from Justin. He was such a quiet kid, so calm spirited. But a voyer, nevertheless. Lance idily pulled on his socks. There was only one way he could think of to truly keep Justin quiet. He sighed heavily, hoping that she would agree to it. |