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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Other · #1726876
All because of a shirt. 'N Sync slash. Don't like it, don't read it. (JoLa)
         Lance groaned as the annoying sound of JC's alarm rang in his ears.  Well, in one of his ears, considering the other one was pressed up against Joey's chest.  Lance hadn't even opened his eyes yet and his day was already great.  As JC's alarm continued beeping, JC most likely trying to get a few more seconds of sleep, Lance felt a hand slide through his hair and rest on his other ear.  The muffled sounds of the alarm became almost bearable.

         When the alarm was finally turned off, Lance opened his eyes and watched the muttering singer walk to the bathroom.  He sighed at the loss of sleep, then finally turned his head to look up at the man protecting his sensitive ears.

         "You need to shave," Lance noted groggily, brushing a thumb across Joey's jaw.  Lance was used to Joey's cheeks being soft and touchable, but the stubbly feeling against his hand was almost nicer.

         "I think I'm gonna grow it out.  I'll look more manly." Joey said, his voice a tad hoarse from the morning.

         Lance just made an amused face at Joey's statement, then rolled off of him.  Lance realized how cold he really was at the loss of shared body heat.  The overwhelming urge to snuggle back up to Joey and lay around all day filled Lance, but they had a bus to catch.  Of course, it wasn't like the others could leave without them, but an upset Chris makes for a terrible, terrible bus trip, so it was best not to keep him waiting.

         Lance watched as Joey hauled himself off of the couch and began looking around for something to change into.  When Lance followed Joey's lead, he was dissapointed to see that he'd forgotten his second bag on the bus: the one with all of his day clothes in it.

         "Pez, think fast!"

         Suddenly, what Lance figured was an outfit of Joey's for him to borrow -- it was like that guy could read his mind -- was thrown straight at his head.

         "Thanks, Joe." He said before quickly undressing and pulling the new outfit on.

         Lance looked in the mirror at the outfit and his breath suddenly caught in his throat.  His hand traveled up to rest on his heart, a small smile forming on his lips.  He was trying to hold back tears.

         It was Joey's favorite shirt; blue and big enough for the entire band to fit inside, with the Superman insignia right on the chest.  Joey had commented more than once that it made him feel like a superhero just wearing it.  Lance felt almost honored to have the baggy, worn-out thing falling off of his shoulders.

         "Looks good on you," Joey said, pulling on his own pair of jeans.

         Suddenly, silent tears were spilling down Lance's cheeks.  He wasn't even sure why he was crying.  The memories associated with the shirt were nothing but good.  This shirt, Lance could remember clearly, had been the shirt Joey was wearing the day Lance had fallen in love with him.

         Most people always talk about how there was no single moment they fell in love with their significant other (or, well, best-friend-but-crush-from-afar).  Just one day you realized you loved them.  Lance, however, had fallen in love with Joey almost exactly at noon two years ago.  He could remember everything leading up to it perfectly.

         The whole group had been at some mall in Florida, just a few months after the intial creation of their new band, 'N Sync.

         "I'm hungry!" Justin had whined.

         Back in the old days when Justin still had a bit of remaining innocence, his big blue eyes worked even better than now at seducing his friends into doing anything he wanted.  Soon, they all had set off in the direction of the food court.  Lance and Justin's moms had stopped a few stores back to "ooh" and "ah" over dresses -- good thing they had, too.

         Chris and Justin rushed off to the nearest food place, a small chinese fast-food booth, to order grub for everyone while JC, Joey, and Lance claimed a table in the almost empty food court.

         "Do they even have any money?" JC questioned, his eyes obviously set on Justin.

         "I don't really care as long as I get some wantons." Joey said, his eyes firmly locked with Lance's as they had been since they'd arrived at the mall.  It had been a neverending staring contest that had to restart every thirty second because somebody blinked.  Lance figured he was winning overall.

         Lance chuckled deeply at Joey's need to constantly eat.  Once that boy's fast metabolism started to slow down, Lance knew he'd regret having such bad eating habits.  Joey didn't seem to care whenever Lance warned him of that, though.

         The newest intense staring match and Lance's thoughts were interrupted by a loud scream.  JC.

         Lance quickly stood up, ready to go after his new band mate if he had to.  However, JC was still in his seat, laughing hysterically.  A huge glob of noodles was tangled in the man's short hair, his hand held to his face in surprise.  Chris and Justin were crouched down behind a table about twenty feet away, laughing their asses off.  They were already starting to grab more ammunition to take down the two survivors.

         Food started flying.  Lance and Joey kneeled down behind their table, pulling the injured JC down for cover as well.  Looking around, Lance saw there were casualties in this food war.  A nearby family was angrily storming off, the wife's blouse coated in what looked like soy sauce.  Suddenly, Joey's hands were on Lance's shoulders, spinning him towards a table in the distance.  "Look!"

         Lance saw what he was pointing to.  A whole table full of food was sitting, most likely abandoned my some upset mall-goers, just waiting to be thrown at Justin and Chris.

         "JC, you'll have to stay here, Man.  You're too injured to be mobile." Joey ordered, his voice becoming dramatically serious and making JC laugh out loud.  "Lance, you and me are gonna run over there and grab the food. It'll be tough, though.  They've got us surrounded."

         Lance eyed the two boys giggling across the room and rolled his eyes.  Surrounded his ass.

         However, soon they were off, crawling around tables and chairs and standing up only when neseccary to avoid crawling in something unpleasant.  When Lance had reached the newfound arsenal, he stood up and started collecting all of the food he could in his arms, Chinese food still flying past him.  Joey was right behind him, and he looked up just in time to see Chris hurl a handful of chicken straight towards Lance.

         Lance laughed, closing his eyes and covering his face to prevent any damage from occuring where it'd hurt. Still thinking along the same lines, he quickly covered his crotch with his other hand.  However, the impact of chicken on Lance never happened.  When he opened his eyes, he saw Joey on the ground, clutching his chest and holding back a smile.

         "Lance!  Kung Pao chicken is my kryptonite!" He called, reaching out his free hand towards Lance.

         Chuckling, Lance got on his knees and stroked Joey's cheek, "Oh, Superman!  You saved me!" he said, feeling the nickname appropriate due to Joey's new t-shirt and the mention of kryptonite.  "Now let me see the wound."

         Joey pulled his hand off of his chest and revealed a large, spicy-smelling stain right atop his heart.  "Oh, Superman!" Lance cried, wrapping his arms around his savior.  Below him, he felt Joey go limp, although he was still clearly holding back giggles.

         Lance smiled, "No!  How will I go on?!"

         "Lance..."

         "Yes, Joey?"

         "I...I love you." He gasped out before going silent fora final time.

         Lance smiled a bit at the attempted cliche, but his heart swelled with something more than amusement.  And ever since that moment of somewhat disgusting affection, Lance had loved the crazy man more than anyone.  Joey was his rock, his opposite, his best friend.  He thanked God for every minute he had with Joey, glad for the opportunity to spend any time with him at all.  However, he always wanted something more.  Something he couldn't have.

         Now, staring straight into the mirror, he ran his fingers across the stain just over his heart.  It had never washed out, no matter how many different old-fashioned solutions Lance's mother had tried.

         Lance couldn't help but laugh at the slight irony.

         "You alright, Man?" Joey questioned, pulling Lance back to the present.

         "Yeah." Lance whispered, wiping the remnants of tears off of his cheeks.  Why the fuck did Joey have to be so loving?  So irresistable?  So...so...straight!?

         Joey stepped between Lance and the mirror, blocking his line of vision.  "If you don't like the outfit you could just say something."

         Lance let out a strangled chuckle at Joey's ignorance.  "Joey, I love it," he said.

---

         "Justin, would you stop beatboxing for five minutes and get your skinny ass down here already?" Joey groaned, not willing to wait for the kid to rehearse that stupid routine again.  By now he'd probably heard the familiar beat over forty times and, although it was impressive, it was getting annoying.

         "Show off," Joey heard Chris grumble from his bunk, and he couldn't agree with the sentiment more.

         Justin just jumped off his bed and slid onto Joey's, stumbling a bit from the rocking of the bus and rolling his eyes, "What do you so desperately need my help for, anyway?"

         "This," Joey said, holding up a peice of paper covered in words, scribbles and more words written over top the original words.

         "What is it?"

         "A song."

         "_You_ wrote a song?"

         "Screw you."

         "Whatever.  So why do you need my help?"

         "Well, it was either you or JC." Joey said, casting a glance in the direction of the other songwriter.  JC's ears were covered by large headphones, his head hung low and his back hunched as he scribbled in his notebook. Joey figured if he'd even attempted to approach JC at a time like this he'd get his head bashed in with Chris or something.

         "I understand." Justin said, snatching the paper from Joey's grasp.

         "Well?"

         "Joey, I hate to be a downer here, but this kinda sucks."

         "That's why I need your help."

         Justin gave a somewhat smug smirk before nodding, "Right.  Well, start over.  All this love crap, it's too much.  There's gotta be some conflict."

         Joey raised his eyebrows, "Like what?"

         "I dunno.  Talk about how you and this girl always fight."

         "What if we don't?"

         "That's not the point."

         "What is the point, J?"

         "The point is to write a song."
         
         "What's the point of writing a song if the song isn't true?"

         Justing frowned, "God, you people are so hard to work with." he said, getting up and dramatically stomping his way back to his bunk.

         "Justin, you're such a diva." Joey heard a familiar voice say.

         From his bunk Joey could hear Chris' amused giggles and the defiant "Humph!" of Justin.  Lance quickly ducked into Joey's bunk and grinned at him.

         "What's got his panties all in a bunch?"

         "I was trying to write a song-"

         "You?"

         "Why does everyone keep saying that?"

         "Sorry."

         "Yeah, _I_, Joey Fatone, was trying to write a song, and he tells me it's too sappy.  Says I should lie to give it more depth or something."

         "Conflict!" Justin corrected from across the room.

         "Whatever." Joey retorted.

         Lance picked up the piece of paper from the bed, and Joey watched as his eyes scanned the sloppily written words.  It's all for you, Joey thought as he eyed the man across from him.  Although he may not realize it, the whole sappy love song was directed straight at Lance.  Every mention of bright, beautiful eyes and silky voice was about the adorable bass singer.

         Lance just smiled and nodded, "S'good, Joe.  I like how you put Superman in there."

         "I thought it was stupid.  He's gonna get sued or somethin'!" Justin said, interrupting again.

         "God, J, I'm done with your crap advice, alright?  There's tons of songs with Superman in 'em and they didn't get sued." Joey said, sticking his tongue out at Justin

         "Ya'll are actin' like a bunch of babies.  I think it's great, Joey." Lance said, a perfect smile balanced on his lips.  Joey could practically feel his melted heart dripping down through his ribcage.

         Suddenly, the bus tipped to the precariously, sending the band members flying to the right.  Shouts from JC and Chris could be heard as they both, most likely, fell from their bunks to the ground.

         Joey, however, couldn't see a thing; he could barely process anything.  It was as if the whole world was tilting, causing his head to slam against the hard wall beside him.  There was noise and sights and head-splitting pain, but it all ran together in a flash of light before his eyes as if he were just preforming at another concert.  The bright light turned colorful, swirling around in front of him, dancing almost.  If his mouth wasn't currenly emiting a pained shout, he would have smiled at the beauty in the rainbow pool floating before him.

         Hands were touching him, holding him, soothing him.  The world righted itself slowly, shouts and groans still ringing in Joey's ears.  However, he wasn't sure if the noises were coming from himself or others around him.  The hands continued, and suddenly the pain was back.  Someone was putting pressure on the side of his head, the pain feeling worse than the few migraines Joey had encountered in his short life.

         Then there were hands under him.  Around him.  Supporting him as his weak legs tried to carry himself in the direction the hands were dragging him.  Dizziness plagued Joey as he was jostled between arms, feeling pressure up against his skull now and then.  The bright lights were back in front of his pupils again as he was shifted once again.  Horizontal, now.  The feeling below him was no longer that of his bunk, but much harder, rougher.

         "Joey!  Joey!"

         Someone was calling to him.  More than one person.  Other things were called as well, but Joey's mind had only cleared enough to turn the syllables of his own name into something he could process as a word.

         The lights had dimmed down to a dull glow, and Joey was finally able to pry his eyelids out of the way of his eyes.  The first thing he saw was the bright sun above him, and his quickly contracting pupils made the ache in his head more painful than it already was.  When he was able to pull them open again, his head angled away from the sky above him, he saw something that surprised him.

         "Superman?" He asked, extremely confused with the blurry Superman insignia against a man's chest looming above him.

         "What did he say?" Laughter.

         "Thinks I'm Superman."

         "Oh, you're wearing his shirt."

         "Yeah."

         Joey's head cleared more, although the pain remained.  Vision sharper, he could now see the blonde spikes sitting on "Superman's" head.  He just about laughed at himself.

         "Joe.  You alright?"  Lance asked, concern filling his voice.

         Joey blinked again.  "Lance..." He murmured.

         "Right here, Joey."

         "Did you save me?"

         "Not really.  Sorry."

         Joey just chuckled.  "But you're Superman."

         "Well, I might've gotten you out of the bus before you bled to death."

         Joey, now vaguely remembering what had happened, brought his hand up to what he now figured was a wound.  A cloth had been wrapped around his head stopping what little blood loss there probably was.  "What the hell happened, anyway?"

         "Bus almost hit a deer.  We missed it, though."

         "Thank God the deer's alright." Joey said sarcastically.

         "You wouldn't be saying that if we had a dead deer on our hands." Chris chimed in.

         Joey sighed, knowing Lance was probably right.  "Well, fine, but what now?  I don't wanna go to the hospital."

         "Well what d'you wanna do?"

         Joey's mind was rushing.  He knew damned well what he wanted to do, but the problem was making his sore body put the plan into action.

         He blindly reached out, fisting the front of Lance's -- well, his own -- shirt tightly.  Before Lance could even think of getting away, Joey pulled him down, their lips crashing together in a painful, awkward tango of lips and tongues.  Joey could swear he actually tasted blood, and he hoped it was from his own head wound and not Lance's mouth.

         Joey took his time tasting Lance, memorizing his mouth with what little time he had.  Although there seemed to be cooperation on Lance's side, he wasn't sure he'd ever get a chance like this again.  In fact, he wasn't sure he'd ever have the courage to do this again, but at least now he could blame it on the broken skull if things didn't turn out well.

         When their lips finally pulled apart after what had only been a few seconds, Joey eyed Lance with all the intensity he could muster, although he was once again seeing flashes of light.  This time, however, it was from pure happiness.

         The smile he got from Lance made up for the confused and disapproving comments of his band mates.

         "What the hell?" Justin.

         "Someone get them to a hospital, I think something's seriously wrong." Chris.

         JC, however, just smiled when Joey's eyes got to him.  That crazy bastard.  Joey almost wanted to get up and give the man a hug, but he was still in serious amounts of pain and recovering from post-first-kiss bliss.

         His eyes returned to Lance, green on brown, smile fighting smile to be the brightest.

         "Thanks, Superman."  Joey said.
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