Lance peered into his mirror, hating the fact that he still blushed. Chris teased him mercilessly about his pink cheeks, pinching at them and chortling. Sometimes he'd pretend to be an 80 year old maiden aunt, and he'd wave his arms around and discourse about what a good little boy Lance was.

The PR people loved his 'innocence', practically rubbing their hands together and beaming. He wished he could change, make Chris stop teasing him and the others stop laughing. He wanted to be more sophisticated, more smooth. Pretty much to be more like Justin.

He knew that Justin was supposed to be having dinner with his mom while the others were drinking. Down time, alone time, quiet time was rare back in those days, a treat to be savoured. So Lance was savouring in his own way, sprawled out on his bed naked when Justin walked back in. Lance saw the shock, embarrassment and he was ready to blush, put clothes on. He would have slipped his finger out of his ass and finished up - hot, sweet, quick in the bathroom, with the spice of Justin's knowing to flavour the emptiness.

But then Justin's embarrassed look had faded, until Lance thought that he looked a little less startled and a little more intrigued. That was Justin, cocksure, unafraid and edgy all at once.

"Your fingers, yo. What the hell"

Lance didn't know what to say. "It feels nice."

Nice wasn't quite strong enough, but Lance didn't want to shock Justin. Lance was the one startled, when Justin reached out to him.

"Um," Justin said. He was pink, like maybe he was a little embarrassed. "Wanna show me?"

Justin was the first guy he'd ever kissed and that night was sticky and awkward. Their learning together had a heat that he's never found again. When he came, he closed his eyes and saw the two of them tangled together, Justin all swollen lips and wide eyes, himself flushed and eyes a bright candy green, arching into Justin in their sweaty slick tangle of limbs.

Joey was next, and Lance thought that it was only natural. Joey was a mass of conflicts, protecting Lance and Justin at the same time he took delight in teaching them crazy things.

Lance loved Joey's contradictions, watching as he stormed furiously at Chris for leaving Justin and Lance the present of a small cheap bottle of tequila. Later that week, Joey gave Lance sips of his vodka and laughed at the faces he made, brown eyes almost paternal.

Lance went to Joey, sometimes, after the initial adrenaline rush of being famous faded, when Europe was no longer a novelty, just a place where they didn't quite fit. When Joey hugged him, the soiled feeling left behind by Lou's sneers and the fact that he never quite seemed to get things faded away.

In return, Joey sought Lance out, making him eat weird local food items or go do absurdly touristy things when all he wanted was sleep. He made Lance laugh instead of crying when he missed his mom, his friends, his dog, even, ridiculously, the nasty kids who called him names.

Joey always seemed to know when Lance was teetering on the edge of homesickness, which was probably why he came searching Lance out when he was huddled in the dark, on the floor of the bathroom connecting their rooms.

Joey knew not to talk, gathering Lance into his arms, holding tight while he sniffed and tried to remember that guys didn't cry. He wildly wanted to be John Wayne, cigarette dangling and face stoic, but he couldn't keep his lip from trembling.

"Lance, man. It'll be okay. Shhh." Joey rubbed Lance's back, unable to keep the concern out of his voice. "Stop it, you'll make yourself sick."

Lance might have laughed at the panic in Joey's voice if he could've, since Joey never knew what to do when confronted with tears. Then, he remember that he was the one crying and he was ashamed, ducking his head down and taking deep hard breaths.

Lance felt all hot and tight with his tears, wrapped up securely in Joey's arms, the rasp of Joey's beard against his face comforting and familiar. He looked up at Joey, reassured to see Joey smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners, while he brushed the last of the tears off Lance's cheeks.

"You okay?" Lance nodded, quick and hard, hoping that Joey would understand. He did.

It wasn't shocking when Joey kissed him. Even when the kisses turned into sprawling onto the bathroom floor with Joey climbing on top of him, it was comfortable. Joey used his hand, quick, harsh and fast, shrugging Lance away when he tried to return the favour.

"This isn't about me."

Joey smiled when he pointed a mussed and sleepy Lance toward bed. After that, he always seemed to be there when Lance was teetering on the edge of homesickness.

Lance stared into the mirror sometimes. He found himself wondering when a southern accent started to spell sweetness to 90% of the world's population. He didn't feel innocent anymore.

He was more confident, smiling at strangers and wearing tighter clothes that showcased his newly honed muscles. He'd grin at Justin, eyes full of promise, Justin would laugh, and they'd disappear. Once, Joey sucked him off backstage, both of them high off adrenaline and risk, giggling when one of the lighting guys almost walked into their dim nook.

His PR people seemed to be waiting for the day he lost the ability to blush. He didn't. He sees himself as something out of one of those Victorian erotica books and wonders what "The Secret Life of L" would fetch in today's market.

He started looking at JC, at the way his clothes stretched along his thin frame, highlighting his shoulders and the perfect line of his spine. He'd stare at JC's eyes and the curve of his jaw and the angle of his cheekbones, fighting the urge to reach out and comb through his tangled mess of hair.

JC caught him staring and held his eyes, almost daring Lance to say something. So he did, feeling invinceable and desirable, glad that he didn't have to blush and pretend that he was naive.

"Wanna hang later?"

Lance made sure to put the right inflection on the words, sure that JC would understand, but wanting no mistakes. He grinned at JC, already thinking about what he'd look like, naked and sprawled out, flushed and ready to beg.

"Sorry. Uh, I'm busy."

Lance didn't think he was imagining the hesitation in JC's voice, so he just smiled and shrugged and walked away, convinced that there would be a next time. There wasn't.

Each time Lance pushed it, JC would just look at him almost like he was thinking the same hot nasty sex things that Lance was, and then he'd look down or look away and shake his head.

Lance didn't think he was imagining that JC was never alone with him, using Chris and Joey and Justin like a shield. It started feeling like a game, and Lance liked games, was caught up in the whole chase and conquest thing, until the night that JC bailed on their plans to go clubbing.

Lance came back early, his world blurred just the tiniest bit, and knocked on JC's door, so intent on his fantasies that he didn't see JC's face fall when he opened the door. He pushed past JC, moving into the middle of the room, focusing on JC's mouth, and smiling.

"You're not busy now."

JC was shaking his head. "Lance, leave."

It was so far from what Lance expected that he didn't know what to say, so he moved closer to JC, stretching to kiss him, unprepared for the hard shove backward. His eyes flipped open, and he finally looked at JC's eyes.

"But, why?" It didn't make sense. He wanted JC, knew that he looked good. Justin had told him so, when they got dressed together. His black shirt hugged his body and his leather pants were just tight enough to be sexy, not obscene.

"It'd be good"

Lance reached out, tracing a finger along the edges of JC's tank top before JC smacked his hand away.

"It's just not right, okay? I don't care what you do with Justin or Joey, or even Chris, but I can't do that. I'm not built for cheap and fast."

Lance really looked at JC, remembered to look at him as JC, not the person that he'd decided that he simply had to fuck or he would die. JC wasn't spazzy or wild at the moment, all of his joy gone, only sadness in his eyes. When Lance moved in to hug JC, the flirting of the past weeks dissipated, and he was just glad that JC allowed it, understood that he wasn't pushing anymore.

Stepping back, Lance couldn't meet JC's eyes, suddenly ashamed of himself, choking on his confidence.

"Sorry" JC nodded, and Lance was gone.

After that, Lance told Justin no when he tried to tug him behind one of the curtains during a costume change. He didn't approach Joey, accepting hugs but nothing more.

It wasn't like he was consciously trying to change, more like he wanted to think about things rather than living hot and fast and in the moment. Lance ignored Justin's whining and Joey's hurt looks, until it all suddenly stopped and it became obvious that they were absorbed in each other.

The camaraderie that Lance didn't even know was missing returned, and JC started talking to him again. Justin didn't really stop making provocative remarks but Lance learned how to laugh at them until it all became absurd. Lance remembered how it was oddly comfortable, not approaching people like a predator.

Chris seemed relieved that all the drama appeared to be over, targeting Lance for his practical jokes and eating lunch with him again. They started watching movies together in their hotel room, Chris sprawled out on the floor, ignoring the stuff he should be doing for FuManSkeeto, while Lance dutifully worked away on all the small details and legal papers that FreeLance required.

It became a routine, and Lance ignored the occasional pinpricks of attraction to Chris, happy with their easy friendship. It was easy when he was absorbed in the mire of business, harder when he didn't have the laptop and Chris's haphazard stacks of papers to hide behind. Still, the restraint seemed worth it when Chris would tackle him, wrestling him to the ground and laughing delightedly while he rubbed his knuckles through Lance's hair.

They talked sometimes, when the work was tucked away, about business and the group and what they had for dinner. Lance liked it, the small minibar bottles of alcohol and Chris's sarcasm as he mocked the events of the day. Things were comfortable and good, and Lance told himself that he didn't miss sex, carefully avoiding the topic.

"So, I figure your hand must be just about worn out."

Lance choked on his bourbon.

"Uh. Um."

"You're not getting any, are you?"

Lance drank the rest of his glass down, not used to Chris looking at him like that. That incisive grin wasn't supposed to be aimed at him and Chris wasn't supposed to be looking at him like he knew exactly who Lance was thinking of when he jacked off.

He wished that he could pretend innocence, knew that Chris would just laugh and flay him to the bone if he did.

"Well. Um." And Lance didn't have to worry about words, because Chris was climbing up onto the bed, smooth assurance and a sharp desire that Lance didn't remember ever seeing on his face. He thought that Chris wouldn't possibly kiss him, but he did.

When Chris's hand smoothed down his side, Lance couldn't remember ever wanting anything quite this much. With Joey it was soft and sweet, with Justin it was playful, fun, but Chris was serious, teeth nipping at his lower lip, simple kisses making him feel shivery inside.

One hand tangled in his hair, while Chris propped himself up on the other.

"So, who have you been thinking about?" One hand shoved up his shirt, fingers splayed out, teasing at his stomach.

"Do you wish JC was doing this?" And Chris leaned down, bit at the crease between his collarbone and his shoulder. "Or Joey?" And a finger brushed across his nipple, tightening it into a hard point.

Lance shook his head, his mouth suddenly dry, eyes locked with Chris'. He didn't want to talk, afraid of this thing that was so different from the previous give and take with Justin and Joey, the cocky arrogance that characterized his attempted seduction of JC.

"You." And that seemed to be all the answer Chris needed, shoving down Lance's shorts, and leaning down, licking and hot puffs of breath, not enough, pushing his hands away.

"Wanted this, wanted you." Then there was hot wet suction, right where Lance had been ready to beg for it, making him groan as he felt Chris laugh delightedly.

Lance wanted more, didn't know how to ask for it, hadn't ever had to form words with the others. He was ready to beg, when Chris leaned back up to kiss him, stripping the rest of their clothes off, simple, practiced and easy.

Then they were locked together, Lance pushed into the pillows and arching into Chris's thrusts, a slippery hand sliding along his cock, sweet hot jolts making him moan Chris's name. Chris leaned in and nipped his shoulder blade, pushing in farther, Lance closed his eyes and came, panting and shivering. When Chris came and he said "I love you", Lance froze.

Chris flopped onto his side, draping an arm around Lance's waist. It didn't seem to bother him that Lance was facing away from him.

"So, yeah. That was worth waiting for."

"Glad I could oblige." Lance didn't know what to say, feeling easy and cheap, wishing that he had pushed Chris away, calculating how long he'd have to lay there until he could grab his clothes and go back to his own room, when Chris pulled on him until he rolled over, unwillingly.

"Not the sex, you ass. You're worth waiting for."

Lance shrugged, confused as to whether he was being insulted or praised, feeling sick and uncomfortable. He was miserably sure that all his emotions were written on his face.

"I meant it, you know." Chris's tone was softer now, a sweetness there that Lance rarely heard in his voice. "I've been waiting a long time. For you to grow up, learn that there's more to sex than just fucking."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. So, uh, you gonna start that shit up with Joey and Justin again?"

When Lance shook his head, Chris smiled, leaning in and kissing him, a hand slipping around his waist again to tug him closer. Lance allowed himself to relax into Chris, thinking that maybe the whole time he'd been walking around feeling so cocky and sophisticated, he'd been more naive than he'd thought.

"This good?" Chris suddenly looked like he cared more than he wanted to let on.

"Yeah." And Lance thought that it didn't matter anymore if he knew how to blush. Chris thought he was worth waiting for.

~end~