Crossed Lines

Okay, so here's the scoop, guys...no pun intended. I don't know *NSYNC or truly know their sexuality, and this work of fiction is not meant to reflect their true nature and/or opinions, blah, blah, blah. We know the truth, whether they're speaking it or not. This is my first work posted here, and I'd love to know what you think...and more is on the way. Contact me at flyguy2240@hotmail.com...and I'll do my best to respond to everyone. Oh, and if you don't like reading about guy-on-guy stuff, just what the hell are you doing here and why are you telling me about it? I view flames as the perfect compliment...one that needs no response.

Oh, and just so you know, words between these "-" are thoughts...and usually are denoted as such, but I wanted to tell you so you don't get all confused and such. But maybe I worry too much. You tell me.

CROSSED LINES by James An *NSYNC fantasy-of-sorts

Part One

"Just what in hell do you think you're doing?"

Lance looked up from the contracts and paperwork spread out on the table before him like tornado wreckage. He'd been working diligently on things for FreeLance for hours now, trying (mostly in vain) to keep up while still on tour with the boys. He'd just been about to scream at the futility of it all when he heard someone speak accusingly to him from behind. And there stood JC, hands on his hips and a smirk on his face, somehow still managing to look both stern and sweet while the bus swayed and rocked beneath his feet.

Lance smiled, his eyes weary. "FreeLance is going to kill me. Tell me again why I'm doing this."

"Because you're a glutton for punishment, Scoop. A masochist if you will." JC jokes as he sat down across from Lance in the booth. "It's your own damn fault, Lance. Don't think I'm going to get you out of it."

"No, I didn't mean FreeLance, dork. I was asking why I'm touring with you idiots again." Lance couldn't hold back the glee he felt about finally getting in a diss on the boys. It was so rare that he got that opportunity.

JC sat there speechless for a moment, then managed to regain some composure. "Did my Lancey-poo finally manage to slam us? Well, well, well. There's a first time for everything, isn't there?" His smile dripped with sarcasm, but his eyes twinkled with fun.

Lance blushed, unable to think of anything witty to shoot back with. "Ah, screw you, Josh."

JC burst out laughing. "You wish!" Lance's head shot up, and his blush deepened momentarily. -Did Josh know?- JC kept laughing, but then stopped suddenly, his eyes filling with concern. "No, but really, Lance, you should be resting. Why are you trying to do this stuff now?"

"I've got to, Josh," he responded as he threw his head down on the table in frustration. "I promised to have this stuff for Meredith done over a week ago, and it's still sitting here. Someone's going to have my head if I don't finish it soon. And then what are we going to do? I can't perform without my head...without my feet, sure, I wouldn't have to dance anymore, but I've gotta have my head."

JC reached out and placed a hand on Lance's shoulder. "Hey, man, it's okay. You've been here for hours doing this stuff...take a break. Come on. Go curl up and take a nap. I'll even wake you in an hour so that you can finish this up before we hit the hotel."

Lance couldn't breathe with Josh touching him like that, much less listen to what he was saying. He hoped it made sense because he had just agreed to it. -Hell, I'd agree to shoot the Pope if it meant he'd keep touching me.- And Josh just smiled at him, pulling Lance to his feet and pushing him down the bus's little hallway and into his bunk. For a moment, Lance thought (or more, wished) that JC was going to crawl into the bunk with him, but instead, the tall boy pulled a blanket over his shorter friend, tucking him in.

"Get some rest, Lance. I'll wake you in an hour so that you can get some more done."

"But Josh, I really..."

"Don't mess with me, Lance. I'm right, and you know it. Look at you--you're falling asleep as we speak."

Lance yawned. "Am not." He tried to crawl out of the bunk, but JC held him down to the bed.

"I'll hold you like this for as long as I have to," Josh threatened, and Lance blushed at the idea. -I'd like that to be forever, please,- Lance thought. -Starting now would be great.- Instead, however, Lance complied and lay still on the bunk. Josh was right. He was falling asleep. -Can't he crawl in here with me?- Lance thought one more time, and then no more.

-Damn straight boys,- Josh thought, trying to subtly readjust his pants before returning to the bus's common area. Lance was in bed, which was good, but now JC wanted nothing more than to crawl in with him. -Why do I always fall for the straight boys?-

He heard the whoop of Joey successfully beating Chris...again...at whatever game of the moment they were playing on the PlayStation2, and JC wondered if he really wanted to go back there. All that noise. And the smells. It was tacos for dinner again, and who knew when the gas would kick in. The last place JC ever wanted to be was in the same room as Joey and Chris after a night of Mexican food. So he wandered back into the kitchen area and the table of contracts and paperwork Lance had left behind. Not really knowing what else to do, he sat down and started sifting through the wreckage, seeing if there was any way he might at least organize it all for Lance before he went to wake the bass singer up.

Justin wandered in from the bunks some time later, rubbing his shorn hair and yawning, still wiping the sleep from his eyes. JC looked up from the paperwork and smiled at his best friend, wondering what had gotten him up. Justin never woke up on his own...not like JC could talk.

"Hey man," Josh greeted his friend. "Sleep well?"

"I guess," Justin replied, yawning again. "Joey and Chris fucking woke me up, though. Damn their PlayStation. If I didn't think it would get me killed, I'd rip that thing out and throw it out the window."

JC giggled at the vision of Joe and Chris with hands around Just's neck while the youngest member of the band held their precious game system out the window. "Yeah, I pretty much think they'd kill you for that."

Justin pulled a carton of orange juice out of the fridge and started drinking from it. "So," he said, looking at his dark-haired friend, "why aren't you in bed?"

"Couldn't sleep," Josh replied. And it was true. He couldn't sleep. He just didn't tell Justin that the reason he couldn't sleep was that Lance had been up, that he didn't sleep most nights because he was thinking of Lance. -Nah, if Justin needed to know that, he'd find out.-

"Oh. Do you know when we'll be getting to the hotel?"

"Maybe a couple of hours. I don't know for sure."

Justin sat down across from JC, who had been shuffling papers the entire conversation. "What are you doing, Josh?" The boy looked at a couple of the contracts and such lying before him on the table. "This all looks like Lance's stuff, Jace."

"Yeah, I know. I had to convince him to take a nap before he fell asleep on the table, and now I'm seeing if I can't organize this a bit so he can finish it when he gets up."

"Oh." Justin looked across the table at Josh, who wouldn't return his gaze. -What's up with this?- Justin thought. -I might have to do something here...but what?- "Joshua?"

JC looked up from the table. Justin only called him Joshua when he was hurt or scared. "What is it, Curly? Something wrong?"

"I don't know, Josh...you tell me."

"I'm fine, Just. Why?"

"Let's see...you can always sleep, and now you can't. You're taking care of Scoop, when he's the one always taking care of us. Scoop never stays up late, and here you have to make him to go to bed. And I'm sitting here while you do his homework, or whatever this shit is, when I know perfectly well you have a ton of this stuff to do of your own. I've seen the backpack full of papers you've been lugging around all tour." Justin looked pointedly at JC, his eyes full of curiosity and bewilderment. "What gives with you two, buddy?"

JC almost swallowed his tongue, choking himself. -Did Justin really see all of that? Shit, shit, shit!- Josh thought, trying to figure out a plausible answer. Trying to figure out any answer that didn't involve him telling Justin about his feelings for Lance.

"Well..." JC began, but stopped. -What the fuck do I tell him?!-

Justin suddenly grew anxious, watching JC trying to spit out an answer to his question. And did he see some tears in Josh's eyes? He reached across the table and grabbed JC's hand, holding it in his. "Hey, buddy, it's okay. You know that you can tell me anything, right? I'm here for you."

JC looked into Justin's eyes, finding the compassion and warmth that Justin always had for him. But how would he tell his best friend that not only did he like boys, he liked Lance, who's straight as an arrow and not at all interested in JC. It would just put weird tension in the group, and then he'd feel guilty for spilling. And what if Lance found out. Justin's a good kid, but sometimes he forgets that his mouth is still moving.

"I-I can't tell you, Just. I just-I just can't." JC practically leapt from the table and bolted down the hall to the bunks, leaving Justin sitting speechless and hurt. -He can't tell me, huh?- Justin thought. -Well, I'll just have to find out on my own.-

Lance woke to the sound bus breaks. -Oh, damn!- he thought, jumping out of his bunk. -I slept too long...I didn't get those things done...I'm going to die. Oh...damn!- He ran down the hall and into the kitchen, ready to shove all his papers into the case he carried them in, only to find them neatly stacked into two piles with a note on top. He reached down and picked up the note, confusion written all over his face.

Scoop--

Josh said you were trying to catch up on a bunch of this stuff, and

so we helped you out. He did most of it, really. I just put it into done and

not done piles when he went to sleep. Hope this is okay, Lance...and if

you need any more help, please ask. Please.

Justin

Lance smiled, a large beaming smile. His friends had helped him out. Josh had helped him out. -Damn, what a nice guy,- he thought. -No wonder I'm in love with him. Too bad he has to be straight.- Then Lance read the note again. -What does Justin mean, if I need more help?- It wasn't worded like Curly meant help with the paperwork. Well, he'd have to think about it later...the bus was pulling into the hotel and they'd have to face the world soon. He took the neatly piled pages and slipped them into his briefcase with his laptop, and then went to find his shoes.

JC woke to Justin shaking him rather roughly, and he hoped that he'd wiped up his face enough from the tears he'd cried earlier so that the younger boy wouldn't notice. Not that it mattered. Justin looked just as tired as JC felt.

"Get up, sleepy-head. We're at the hotel."

JC groaned, then reached his blankets. "Just let me sleep here." He rolled away from Justin.

Justin giggled slyly, and then whacked JC across the back with his hand. "I said get your lazy ass out of that bunk, Chasez! If you don't, you'll regret what happens!"

Josh groaned again, but complied with his band mate and crawled out of the bunk. "Where are the guys?" he asked, really wondering where Lance was but too afraid to ask about him directly.

"Joey and Chris are waiting for us at the front of the bus and Scoop is still looking for his shoes. And you're just getting up. Why is it I always have to get your lazy ass out of that bunk when we pull up? How did I get this god-awful job?" Justin grinned at JC, failing at a stern look.

JC ignored the questions and pulled on the shoes next to his bunk. "Tell Lance his shoes are under the kitchen table. At least, that's where I last saw them."

The two singers suddenly heard a deep voice call out "Found 'em!" as they made their way to the front of the bus. Joey and Chris were standing there impatiently.

"Man, what took you guys so long?" Joey asked, bouncing up and down.

Justin smiled. "I had to get the sleepy one here out of bed," he replied, gesturing at JC. "Why you bouncing, Joey? Gotta go?"

Joey grimaced. "Damn right I gotta go! Been waiting for the past hour. You guys know how I hate the bathroom on this thing."

Chris laughed. "Yeah, don't we know it, Joe. You only bitch about the bathroom every time we're on the bus."

Lance approached the rest of the band then, shoes on his feet. "Ready, guys?"

"Ready," they all managed to mumble or say. One of the security guards opened the door to the bus then, standing ready to lead them into the hotel. JC managed to go first, trying to put distance between himself and both Justin and Lance. He needed to get out of that situation. He needed to sleep. He needed Lance to tell him that he loved him. He figured none of the above would happen, so the least he could do was lock himself in his hotel room for the night.

Justin managed to hold Lance back while Joey and Chris also exited the bus. "You know what's up with Josh, Scoop? He seems like he's got something to share, but he won't. And you know how stubborn he is, so I was wondering if you knew what it was so that maybe we could get him to talk about it."

Lance looked at the younger singer in surprise. -Something's up with Josh?-

"No, I don't know what it is." -Could it have something to do with me? Did Josh figure out I'm in love with him? Oh, damn. Damn, damn, damn!-

"Oh, okay. Well, it was worth a shot. By the way, where did you find your shoes?"

"Under the kitchen table."

Justin snorted, then giggled. "Figures." Then a thought dawned on him. -Why is JC so concerned about Scoop? Could he...? Nah. But maybe...-

*NSYNC managed to make their way into the hotel and to their rooms with no incident. Joey practically ripped his door off trying to get to the bathroom. Chris simply offered everyone a goodnight before turning in. Justin looked at both Lance and JC carefully as then both silently opened their doors and walked into their rooms, looking at no one and saying nothing. -That could be it. No, that's totally what it is! And they all think I'm the dumb one. I'll show them.- But it was three in the morning. Justin smiled to himself. -I'll show them in the morning.- He walked into his room and quietly closed the door, plots and ideas spinning around his tired head.