| "I'm bored, I'm bored, I'm bored" "Justin, shut up! If you say it one more time..." "I'm bored!" "That's it!" JC jumped up, tackling the 19 year old to the floor of their tour bus, planting a painful jab into his ribs. "Get off me," Justin squirmed, laughing loudly. Lance watched in amusement as JC climbed off his friend and sat back down. "You two are really gonna kill each other one of these days," he commented with a grin. JC ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. They'd been touring for three weeks straight with no break. His girlfriend had just left along with Chris', too much of a distraction their road manager claimed. "Where the hell are we anyway?" Joey asked, tossing playing cards into an overturned baseball cap. Lance scratched his nose, looking up from his computer briefly. "Somewhere between St. Louis and Kansas City?" Joey frowned. "You asking me or telling me?" he asked. "Dunno," the reply came. Chris sauntered back to the lounge area, a huge smile on his face. He stepped over Justin, who laid on the floor, right where JC left him, and pushed Lance's feet off the couch, sitting next to him. "Something amusing?" JC asked his older friend. "Seinfeld," he snickered, "The contest episode." Groans came from the four of them. Chris watched way too much Seinfeld, quoting it often. "Which one is that?" Lance asked, returning to his laptop. Chris stared at him. "Dude, it's like the funniest one. The contest?" Lance shook his head, blankly. "Don't know it." Chris hopped to his feet. "I say we do it. We do the contest. It'll be fun." Justin rolled over onto his stomach, executing a perfect pushup. "Wait, what is it again? I forget." Chris rolled his eyes, not believing that these four could not remember the hysterics of the episode. "George gets caught by his mother, you know, jerking off and swears he's never gonna do it again. They have a contest to see who can go the longest without masturbating. Anyone? Anyone remember it?" Lance jerked his head up. "You aren't serious, Chris! You want us to do this?" Joey laughed. That would be a sight. The five of them trying not to do it. "Why would we do this? There's no reason!" Chris sighed. He hated having friends with no sense of adventure. "Okay, $500 each. Winner takes all." Justin stood up and stretched, uninterested. "$500? That's it? Nope! Not worth it to me!" Chris grinned. "New playstation tossed in?" "Okay," Justin said, agreeing. "That and the money. I'm in." Chris nodded excitedly. "Joey?" "Why the hell not? I'll probably loose in the next day or so." Lance snickered. "You'll probably loose in the next hour or so." Joey threw a card at his head. "What about you Mr. Gentleman? You in?" "Fine," Lance agreed, snapping his laptop shut. "I'm in." Chris raised his eyebrow at JC, who was staring at them like they'd lost their minds. "No! I'm not in!" he said, folding his arms over his chest. "It's stupid. I'm not playing those types of games." Justin grinned. "He's just scared. Afraid he won't have enough self control!" "Ooh, you are gonna get it today, pretty boy!" JC growled, staring at him. "Fine, I'm in." Chris clapped his hands together. "Okay, we start now. Honor system." He reached his hand in the middle and waited as each singer placed a hand ontop of his. "Let's see who's master of their domain." Day Two Joey groaned as he stepped into the shower, his wake up call forcing him from the comfort of his bed. The persistant matter of being in this contest was starting to bug him already, and peeing didn't make it go away. The shower was warm, and he grimaced, turning it cooler, hoping that would help matters. It didn't. His little buddy still stood at attention, begging for some. "Go away!" he grumbled, peering down at it. "Think unsexy thoughts," he reminded himself. "Puppies, nuns, being kicked in the balls." That one seemed to have some effect on it. Smiling proudly, he continued his shower, well aware that they all thought he'd be the first one out. He was determined to prove them all wrong. Justin rolled over on his stomach, having been sleeping soundly until that damn wake up call interuppted him. He grinned in his sleep, not ready to wake up quite yet. Dreams were still floating through his mind and there was nothing he liked better. "Justin! You up, man?" Faintly, he heard Lance's voice soaring through his mind, and frowned. "Justin!" He cracked one eye open, reluctantly at the persistance in his friend's voice. Damn, he sure was being loud this morning. "Yeah?" he called out, slightly muffled from the pillow. "Open up!" The knocks started, louder and louder. Finally, Justin jumped from his bed, and leapt over to the door, swinging it open. "For chrissakes, what?" he demanded, staring at Lance, who looked like shit. Lance made a face and pushed his way inside, plopping down on Justin's still warm bed. "Well?" Justin asked, flopping down next to him. "Didn't sleep well," Lance muttered, staring up at the ceiling. Justin rolled his eyes. "So you're being a loudmouthed pain in my ass because you didn't sleep well?" "Actually, Chris sent me in here to wake you up. He said something about you being late a lot, and blah, blah, blah." Justin threw the pillow over his head. "I think this contest is starting to get to someone," he teased. Lance sat up, his tired eyes straining for focus. "Yeah, yeah. Well, I'm still in, how about you? Did you loose it last night? Is that why you slept so well?" Justin peeked out and grinned. "Nope, I'm still king of my castle! Now get the fuck out so I can shower." "I'm going," Lance sighed, dragging himself to the door. "But no funny stuff while you're in there. That playstation awaits you my friend!" A bright smile crossed Justin's face and he hopped from the bed to the floor for some crunches. "Oh, I'll have that playstation, and the money. Don't worry about that!" Breakfast was makeshift, an array of bagels and danish, orange juice and coffe, all served up in a private conference room for the group and it's entourage. JC made his way downstairs, cranky, but awake. The night had been tough for him, boredom inevitably usually leading to idle sexual release, but that was a no-no if he wanted to stay alive in this stupid ass contest. He entered the room, taking a bagel and glass of juice, and sat down next to Chris, who was busy reading the morning paper. "Sleep well JC?" Chris asked, never looking up. "Hmm, fine," he grumbled back, leaning his head down onto the table. He hated Chris and his chipper moods. Why had he agreed to this damn contest? It was beyond him. Maybe just to prove he could be one of the guys. After all, the other four were in it, so he didn't want to be odd man out. Justin bounced into the room, grabbing some danish and a glass of milk. "Hey guys!" he chirped cheerfully. JC looked up, then down again. Two happy campers were more than he could stomach this morning. Next came Lance, finally someone who looked as miserable as he did. It caused a small smile to break out on his lips. Lance collapsed into the chair opposite JC and sighed. He glanced across at JC and rubbed at the stubble on his chin. "Sucky night?" he questioned. JC nodded, but kept his head hidden. Joey strolled in, whistling as he grabbed at a bagel and some coffee. He stared at his groupmates and laughed. "Well, well, well. At least we know the men from the boys." JC and Lance both shot their middle fingers up in the air at him, causing Justin to choke on his milk. "Contest hell shall continue," he stated. Day Five "Justin, give em back! They're mine!" JC tore across the dressing room and ripped the sunglasses from his group mate's hands. "Are not! I just bought them." Justin caught JC's shirt and pulled hard, watching in horror as it ripped at the seam. JC froze at the sound. "You little shit!" he growled, staring woefully at the torn garment. "We fucking go on in ten minutes and I have a tear in my shirt?" Lance sighed, his feet kicked up on the small sofa, one arm draped over his eyes. He was trying to relax, but there was so much tension in the air, it was nearly impossible. "Guys!" he said, calmly. It was no use, they were at one another, just like they had been for nearly the entire five days of this contest. It was as if N Sync just couldn't co-exist with all the sexual frustration in the air. Days one and two weren't so bad, but with each passing day, hell, each passing hour, each one of them got more crazed. Joey popped his head in the door, a huge smile on his face. "I'm out!" he announced, cheerfully, slamming his money down on the table. Chris looked up from tying his shoe and shook his head. "Why? Joe, you were doing great! What made you cave?" "Hot girl, no shirt, backstage last night! Sorry! Something had to give." Whistling happily, he went to the mirror and adjusted his shirt. JC looked at him in disgust. "Looser!" he hissed, picking at the rip near his shoulder. Joey grinned and waved his hand in the air. "Sore sport!" he countered, leaving for makeup. Lance rested his head back on the couch, wondering how much longer the rest of them would go. It was getting increasingly difficult. The walls on the bus seemed smaller, the after parties never seemed so sexually charged, and the girls coming to the show seemed to have less and less on. "Arggh!" he screamed, jumping up. Chris laughed. "Uh oh! Lancie poo is getting ready to blow! Get it? Blow?" "Unfunny," Lance retorted, storming from the room, heading down to makeup. Day Six And then there were four. The after party had been an unusually loud and crowded one, mostly female, naturally. With Joey back to his openly horny self, it made it very difficult on the rest of them. Lance sat alone in the corner, fending off advances, while Justin tried to dance without grinding against anyone. JC sulked at the bar, drinking himself silly, while Chris pranced around, determined to be the winner. Justin's whole body was glazed with sweat, and he tried to just focus on the beat of the music, and not on the pretty 20 year old who was half naked shaking her ass against his crotch. He moved two steps back, and so did she. He turned and there was another girl, tight pants, halter top, her full pouty lips and smoldering eyes dancing with his. "Fuck," he groaned, stepping from the dance floor and over to the bar. He ordered a soda, figuring any alcolic beverage would lessen his will power, and took a seat next to JC. "You okay?" he asked, taking a long sip. JC glared at him, still angry over the sunglasses, not to mention the tear in his outfit. "Just fine, Justin," he answered curtly. "You?" Justin forced a grin. "Cool as a cucumber." His gaze wandered over near Lance, and he noticed his friend's face. He was staring at something with his eyes wide open, a flushed look in his cheeks. "What the?" Curious, he hurried over and sat down. "Lance, what are you looking at?" Lance said nothing, just pointed. Justin followed his finger and there, in a darkened corner, were two girls going at it, just out of plain veiw. "They're doing it on purpose,"Lance grimaced. "They saw me here and are doing it to kill me." Justin's eyes were glued on the girls, his heart thudding wildly inside him. He clenched his jaw tighter, feeling the ache between his legs. "Play station," he muttered. Lance chuckled at the word. "Fuck the playstation, man. Do you see that shit?" Justin gulped, unable to move. Lance scurried from his seat. "I'm outta here," he said, running for the door. Once back at his hotel room, he jumped in the shower and let out the six days of built up frustration inside him. Afterwards, he collapsed into his bed, a satisfied smile on his face. In the morning, he appeared for breakfast, plopping his $500 down. "I'm out!" he grinned. Day Seven And then there were three JC had been surprised when Lance bowed out. He figured on him winning. But now it was a matter of principle. Chris seemed to be fine, humming along like all was well. Justin and JC, however, were at each other every minute. "Stop whining!" JC screamed, covering his ears. "I can't take it!" They were in the studio, laying down some holiday tracks and Justin's voice was screetching though his headset. Justin mashed his teeth together, frustrated beyond belief. "Shut up!" he yelled back. Lance and Joey watched in wonder, each one not caring that they were $500 poorer, or that they had lost some dignity. They were not sexually frustrated any more, and that was worth every penny. "Come on," Chris chided them. Just one more take. Then we'll all go out and get something to eat." Everyone wondered just how he was managing his sanity so well. "Fine, but get this overpaid, pretty boy out of my way!" JC hissed, shoving Justin to the side. "Over paid? Pretty boy? I know you didn't even!" Justin changed his stance, ready for a physical fight. Lance jumped up, standing between them. He bit back a laugh, threatening to escape. "Dude, take that back," he reprimanded JC. "That was cold." JC nodded, still frowning. "Fine, sorry." Justin relaxed, not saying anything. Lance motioned for the music to re start. Luckily, they hit it on the next take, freeing the group for dinner. Once decided on a resturaunt, the hostess lead them to a far away booth. Chris admired her body, the way it wiggled when she walked. Joey caught the look, and knew that Chris wasn't as tough as he appeared. "Anyone for mozzerella sticks?" Lance asked, ignoring the continuing bickering between JC and Justin. Chris bit his thumb absently, having a hard time focusing. That waitress was hot, really hot. He felt warm, uncomfortably so, and used the menu to fan himself. Joey started up his "wanna know what this girl did to me last night" story and that was it. He hopped up and headed for the bathroom. Not the most dignified place to loose the contest, but his groin actually hurt. He'd managed to keep a cheerful disposition for this long, but it wasn't to be. When he returned from the rest room, he pulled his wallet, much to the surprise of his four band mates, and plunked the money down. "Had to do it," he said sheepishly. "I sincerely hope you washed your hands," Lance laughed, as Justin and JC split the money. Chris chuckled. "Of course. Now let's eat." Day Eight And then there were two. Lance sat on the stage, guzzling a bottle of water, waiting for Justin to get his ass back so they could run through soundcheck. The days had been long, and everyone waited anxiously to see who would win this crazy contest. JC sat next to him, his face tired, his body slumped. "Man, just call it," Lance said, watching as JC laid down. "It's just a stupid contest. It doesn't mean anything." JC closed his eyes on the cold hard stage floor. "Yeah, it does. To me. Justin is better at everything. Do you realize that? He always wins. I want to win, just once." "Then beat his ass at baseball or something. Dude, you look like shit. You can't keep it up." Lance eyed him carefully, noticing that his dancing was suffering, his personality was gone. He'd come to the logical conclusion that no matter what the bible said, men were supposed to masturbate, they had to. And often. JC stayed quiet, not wanting to hear it. Justin flew across the stage, a little to quickly, and slipped. He laid there, sprawled on the ground, staring up at the lighting people. "For the love of god," he muttered, pulling himself up. And JC laughed. He laughed so hard, he was afraid he would pee his pants. His sides hurt and his body doubled over. Lance joined in, watching JC with interest. Joey shook his head and Chris chuckled. But JC kept laughing, harder and harder. Justin stood over him, scowling. "Think it's funny? Me falling?" JC could only nod, tears rolling down his cheeks. Justin stormed off the stage, his face red with embarassment. "Justin," JC gasped, finally controlling himself. "Justin come on. I'm sorry." Lance stood up, still grinning. "I'll go get him." He headed toward the backstage area, calling his name. No answer. Pushing the door of the drssing room open, he heard strange sounds coming from the shower area. Lance cocked his head, unsure of what was going on, unsure until he heard the unmistakable grunt. He covered his hand with his mouth and backed out of the dressing area quickly, hurrying back to the stage. "JC, I think you won," he stated, slightly embarassed at having caught Justin. JC looked up at him, then watched as Justin came back onto the stage. He adjusted the bandana on his head and stared at Lance. "What?" he asked innocently. Lance looked away, stifiling a laugh. JC tapped his foot and held out his hand. "Oh, shit, here!" Justin pressed the money into it, grinning. "So, I loose. Big whoop. I'm gonna dance my ass off tonight." JC nodded, pocketing the winnings. "And I will catch you guys in 15 minutes!" He headed off the stage. "Hey JC, there's a Cosmo back there, should you need it!" Joey yelled. "Shit! I'm glad that's over!" Chris cried, as they stared at him. "What?" he asked, ducking as various musical objects flew at his head. "No more contests!" Lance laughed. |
| THE CONTEST by destiny |