NOTES: All made up, clearly. For entertainment only. Title and summary from Matthew Hattie Hein. Other quotes throughout from the Wilco song Pot Kettle Black. Thanks to Younger. And to Kelly. And Shana for initial inspiration and that wonderful beta thing.

WOULDN'T TRADE YOU FOR ANYONE

i'll keep you in my locket
a string i've never strung

He was actually only nineteen then. It didn't make sense to him and it was so patently unfair. He would cry in his beer but he didn't have time, he was busy busy touring beaver. He was pretty sure he was gay, really very sure even at nineteen. And she was, she was even after two months practically engaged. No matter what everyone said and all the no comments he knew were to come.

So the best solution was fuck time and get drunk. And somewhere around the fifth beer, which shouldn't have made him that wasted, he went and found her. He knocked on her door and she answered, more bad luck for him.

She let him in, and he just started talking. Talking about how she made him feel in stupid words, words drunks use, like love and forever and beautiful. He had better words earlier but he'd never been very good at that part. She didn't run away, but it was her room.

He kissed her. He thought it would be like when he was seventeen and he kissed Justin. Awkward retreat, apologies all around and a marked inability to spend time in the same room for six to eight months.

Except she said, "Lance. I like you, too."

The first time he said it, and he wouldn't say it again for eighteen months. "Leave him and be with me. Britney."

She said, "No. I won't." He had time to think, oh, fuck. Then she said, "But. Honestly, I do like you like that."

*

The logistics of sleeping with a famous pop star who's also dating your band-mate are very complicated and work something like this: if you're on tour, then he's on tour, too. So she comes to see him. She kisses him on the cheek and says things about contracts and legalese and trusting you more than some of the people she has working for her. She says, "just an hour or two," and maybe, "baby."

She walks down to your room with papers in her hands and by the time she's closed the door, she's pushing off her pants. It's rushed sex. You have to be quiet. And then when you finish, you wait before cleaning up and showering. You lie on the bed and actually look at the papers she brought and tell her what you think while she sits between your legs. Then you both clean up and she blows her hair dry while you watch.

Backrooms at parties are very dangerous but you do that, too. When you're not on tour and not with him all the time, it's easier and harder. You're friends officially, and it helps that everyone who's anyone knows about the last five guys you've fucked. No one suspects the cute gay one of sleeping with the pop princess on the side. So you can visit, run into her, party with her and find a way each time to have sex, to talk when no one's listening.

When she's on tour and you're not, you can only go to some shows and then not as many as him and some of the same ones he goes to and some different ones. That doesn't happen often, but it's easier than when she comes to him and you. Easy to go home with her and party. And every party has a backroom and excess alcohol is a reason to stay late. But never over-night in the same bed. Ever.

And that's how you make it work for two straight years.

*

He told her once about a thing he'd heard at church, about infidelity. "Infidelity isn't just sex," he'd said. "It's also sharing confidences and levels of intimacy meant only for your spouse."

"I don't have a spouse," she'd said, laughing.

"Close enough," he'd replied.

Alone, he called her Britney Jean because he heard her mother call her that once when yelling at her. "Britney Jean, you've been a bad girl," he'd say, laughing.

Justin had sex with her first. But the first time she did it in a men's bathroom was with Lance, so he figured that counted for something. She didn't mind that he slept with guys, and he never said anything about her sleeping with Justin.

She called all the time. Almost every day. And he called her and it was more than just sex. They talked about everything. Except Justin.

*

Once they moved heaven and earth and rearranged things and Brit told her mother to lie to Justin and they took three days off together. "I told my mom, you know, I just needed a little time, to think about things. So if Justin calls, you know."

Lance just told everyone he needed three days to regroup, and there was nothing like collapsing from exhaustion to make people accept that and urge him on.

They went to Arizona. Britney picked it out, saying she'd read all about the Navajo reservations from some murder mysteries and it sounded deserted. And beautiful. They flew out separately and met in Phoenix. Lance rented a SUV and they drove, glasses and hats in place.

Brit called Justin from the car. "I'm okay, I'm at this thing. I'll tell you about it later, really." Lance didn't say anything and he'd turned off the radio while she'd dialed. She turned off the phone when she was done and turned to him with a dazzling smile. "Okay, that's done. Now it's just us."

He loved her. He loved her and he'd never loved anyone like that in his whole life. Sex with her, it wasn't like the two girls he'd tried with back home and it wasn't anything like the one or two girl fans he'd tried again with in Germany. She turned him on and he never pictured anyone else.

The hotel was small but no one looked at them twice and that made it perfect. He grabbed her hand and they almost ran up the stairs. She pulled him inside the room and kissed him. "We have so much time, baby. Honestly, we have so much time today."

"Britney Jean," he said, grinning, "get on that bed." Brit turned him around and pushed him on the bed. She straddled him and began methodically unbuttoning his shirt and unzipping his pants. He couldn't stop smiling. She was so beautiful. And they had so much time.

They ordered room service for lunch. They spent the afternoon in bed, watching TV and making out when the commercials came on. He loved that she's really funny, that she's exactly like she comes off in interviews and still harder underneath that. She cracked him up and he kept running his hand up and down her forearm.

They had dinner at the tiny restaurant next to the hotel and then they drove. They stopped on the side of the road and climbed up a not very tall rock formation. Not the safest thing, but that pretty much summed up the whole experience. She sat in his lap and they looked up. So many stars, and he could name most of them. He made up the rest, called them her name. She giggled and turned around and kissed him.

Then morning and the only time in his life he'd woken up next to her. Not much to show for eighteen months of being in love with someone, so he put his hand on her stomach and watched her sleep for an hour. He didn't consider the time a waste.

It went too fast. That night they were in the airport and stood in a corner of an empty terminal while he kissed her hands and she didn't exactly cry. He said, second of three times now, "Leave him. Please."

She cried then, just a little, but she said, "No. I won't."

He told everyone it had been really relaxing, and he'd really just gone to Los Angeles and locked himself in a hotel room. Justin smiled and said something about how that was always more fun with someone else and Lance looked down. Lance said he'd imagine that was the case.

*

every song is a comeback
every moment's a little bit later

She calls him and tells him over the phone she's started sleeping with Christina. "I love her, you know, I never knew it could be like this."

Lance says, "oh." He has no idea what this means. Maybe he's being dumped. Also, he doesn't get how she can juggle being an internationally famous pop star and sleeping with three different pretty famous people. Even Madonna, maybe, couldn't do that. He says, "I don't get it. Are you -- what's going on?"

"It doesn't change anything, baby. Honestly, I love you, I love her, I want all of you. I just, you know, I wanted to tell someone and I know I can tell you anything." She sounds nervous.

"Well," Lance says. "I just. I didn't know you felt that way." He rubs his forehead and switches the phone to his other hand.

"You mean liking girls? Honestly, I think it's like you and liking girls. It doesn't happen that often. I, see, she was here and we were talking and I told her. About you."

"What'd she say?"

"She, like, actually, she gave me a cigarette. And then she said she thought you were gay. And dating JC." She giggles again.

"Did you -- what did you say?" Lance is just starting to get all of this. So, right now, he'll just keep asking her questions until he can understand.

"I said you were only mostly gay and I was pretty sure you could get it up for at least one girl. And you never dated JC. Right?"

"No, no." He's never really dated anyone except her, Danielle was nothing more than phone calls and he never did more than kiss her. Maybe he and Britney aren't really dating either but it's more than anything else he's ever had.

"Right, and then we started talking and then we kissed. That was the first time. We've, yeah, a few times since then." She's smiling, he can tell, the tone of her voice. She's happy.

"What about -- how will you find the time?" He sighs.

"I'll find the time. Her schedule is easier than mine. Don't worry," she says. She pauses and then quickly, "Baby, you know this doesn't affect us."

"Well, because, right, it's not like you haven't always had. It doesn't affect us," he says flatly.

"It doesn't, it doesn't. I love you." She says then, "I love you, Justin." He hears her put her hand over the phone and she says loudly, muffled a little, "I'm on the phone, can I just have, like, a few minutes here?"

She calls him Justin on the phone sometimes and he knows it's because someone is there. It doesn't even hurt. "Okay, okay," she says. "So you understand, right?"

"No. But, okay, keep talking."

"I just. She's beautiful, you know? She has the most amazing voice and she's so strong. She's like steel but she's small and so skinny. She's just. It's pretty amazing, you know, sex with her. She's pretty when she takes off her make-up and she just is." Britney talks quietly and she rushes and stumbles over the words. She says, "I have to go, are you okay?"

"I'm something." He sighs.

"I love you, Lance." She sounds like normal, she sounds like it's just another call.

"I love you, too, Britney Jean," he says and closes his eyes.

*

She calls back and over and over again and he doesn't exactly understand but he gets it. She wants someone to tell, she's almost addicted to the telling. He says he's the last person to be turned on by descriptions of two girls doing it and she just laughs. "Okay, but one of 'em is me!"

He isn't turned on by it. He wants her, he still does so much. She's, he thinks she's fundamentally self-centered and almost amoral. He likes that. She wants Justin, she stays with him, she wants Lance, she takes that. Christina makes her feel something and she takes that. He loves her for the way she just does things. She takes.

It's not like she's not sweet.

*

Britney told Christina and things changed. Lance wants change so he tells Joey. In Toronto, he looks over at Joey and says, "I've been. I've been sleeping with Brit for the last two years."

Joey blinks and says, "Okay. Are her tits real?"

Lance swallows. "No, but. I'm not shitting you. Since right before she stopped opening for us. I love her."

Joey stands up and sits down again. "I'm waiting for you to say that this is joke." Lance just shakes his head.

"You're gay. You sleep with guys all the fucking time. There's no way you're telling me the truth." Joey leans forward and glares.

"I'm mostly gay. I mean, she has a boyfriend, you know that. She doesn't mind. I really, I do love her." He keeps looking at Joey. Britney was right, it's a thing to actually admit it. To say it out loud.

"She has a boyfriend," Joey repeats. "Justin. What the fuck, Lance? Do you, you're serious here. What the fuck? What about Justin?" Joey stands up and glares. "Why are you telling me this? Fuck, Lance."

"I don't. I'm not proud, but I love her. He doesn't know. I feel bad about it, but. Joey, I love her." Lance clenches his hands in his lap. "I told you, I told you because you're my best friend."

"You're fucking serious." Joey sits down. "What the fuck, Lance? I don't. What am I supposed to do the next time I see Justin? What about Justin, man? I thought. Fuck, I thought you liked him. I mean, liked him liked him."

"I did. When I was seventeen, man. I. It's not about not liking Justin. I feel bad. I feel like a shit, but, you know. Swear to god, I do love her." Lance sighs.

Joey makes him explain how they make it work and he still stops every few minutes and says, "You're not shitting me? This isn't some demented prank? It's totally fucked up, man. Totally fucked up. You should stop that shit. Your life is some kind of fucked up soap opera and it's just wrong. It's just wrong to do that to Justin. You know he loves her, right?" Lance knows. He feels like an ass when he's with Justin sometimes, and they haven't been close in years. Because of Brit, Lance thinks, or really, because of Lance.

Joey promises not to say anything but he reserves the right to bitch at Lance for being such an idiot and putting him in this crappy position between Justin and Lance. Lance doesn't mention Christina.

*

I think you have no motive
I know you have no home

There's a little bruise forming on Lance's thigh where Joey poked him over again when they watched When Harry Met Sally ... earlier. Every time Carrie Fisher said, "He'll never leave his wife," Joey poked him. Lance rubs his thigh, turns over in the bed. She'll never leave him. He's sleeping alone.

Someone knocks on his door and it has to be one of the guys, or the bodyguards. Lance makes a list as he opens the door. It's Justin. Justin is furious.

Lance starts to speak but Justin pushes him into the room, slams the door, his hand at Lance's throat as Lance finds himself against the wall. Justin's hand is tight against Lance's throat. Holy fuck, Lance thinks, and tries to breathe.

"You're fucking her, aren't you?" Justin tightens his grip on Lance's throat. Justin's pressed right up against him and Lance can't. He claws at Justin's shoulders and he can't quite breathe. He can't say yes or no because he can't speak. He blinks and thinks, yes.

"You love her?" Justin's voice is low and choked. Choked is something Lance is becoming very familiar with. He digs his hands into Justin's shoulder and Justin doesn't falter. "You love her," he says again. He sees it in Lance's eyes somehow.

Justin says, "Fuck you, you fuck." Palindrome. Lance's last thought will be palindrome, maybe. He's seeing red at the edges of his vision. His room is still dark, just a little light from the bathroom. He didn't turn off the bathroom light. Lance tries to say he can't breathe but he can't even say that.

Justin says, "You'd leave her if I asked you to, wouldn't you? Even though you love her, you would if I asked?" Lance thinks yes. Tries to say yes because it's true, he would. Justin blinks and his grip is less tight. Lance gulps for air.

Justin says, "Good," and walks out. Lance falls against the wall, lands on the floor, of course, the floor. He coughs and coughs and rubs his neck.

He can't sleep. This is just about the end. The end of Lance being in the band, probably. The end of the tour, maybe. The end of Britney and the last one keeps him awake. He rubs his neck and winces. He calls her, even though it's 4 a.m. She says, "What is it?"

"Justin knows," Lance says, his voice raw.

"I know," she says.

"You knew? Thanks for the warning. What the fuck, he almost killed me." Lance starts coughing.

She says, "Oh, baby," until he stops coughing. "I just. We were talking tonight, he said something, I said something, and he just."

"You told him?" Lance closes his eyes.

"I didn't exactly tell him. He just. He just knows about us. Are you okay?" She sounds tired.

"Brit. God, I'm fine. But he's really really upset."

"I know," she says quietly. "I love you, baby, it will work out." Lance says he loves her and hangs up.

He can't sleep. No sleep for the wicked. He thinks about Justin over and over again and it's just impossible. He doesn't know what the morning will bring and he assumes nothing good.

He waits in his room until someone comes for him. It's JC and he acts like nothing's going on. JC doesn't know, Lance guesses. There's just the four of them, waiting and Joey says, "Where's Justin?"

Chris shrugs. "On the phone with Britney. I don't know, they're having a thing. Something serious."

Joey looks at Lance and says, "Is it bad?"

Chris says, "I think it'll be okay. He's in a bad mood, though."

Lance says, "Huh," and rubs his neck again. Just a little bruising.

*

It's been three days and Brit's with them. Justin hasn't said a thing to Lance, not even hello or goodbye. Everyone else has asked Lance what's wrong. He's only told Joey the truth. Joey says he's getting what he deserves and Lance doesn't disagree. Except so far, nothing much bad is happening except for Justin's silence. Which does hurt.

So Brit's in Justin's room and Lance isn't expecting anything. He's just sort of moping around his own hotel room. He misses her. Like the desert misses the rain, he thinks, and flops on his bed. And then she calls.

"Come over here," she says, she sounds happy.

"Brit, is that okay? He's not speaking to me, I can't just --"

"Come over here, silly. It's all okay." He can't believe that's true but if this is just some set-up so Justin can kill him and get away with it, Lance thinks that's probably okay. At least something will have happened.

Justin opens the door and stands aside. When Lance is inside, Justin says, "I guess your throat's okay?" He says it quietly, looking at the floor.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine." Lance looks around the room and can't see Britney. Fuck. "Justin, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for --"

Britney comes in from the other room and says, "You're here!" She bounces over. Bounces. Lance stares at her and can't bring himself to look at Justin.

Justin says, "I'm gonna. I'll be back." He goes into the other room, arms across his chest, walking quickly.

Britney hugs Lance. "We have two hours, okay?" She's grinning, happy.

"What the fuck is going on?" He can't even, he doesn't put his arms around her.

"He's okay with it. He really is. We talked a lot, it's okay." She grabs his arm and pulls him toward the bed. It's been made, the covers tucked and tight.

"It's okay?" She pushes him onto the bed and sits on his lap.

"It's totally okay. So, now, see, it's too hard to explain to other people, but you know, now you can just come over. We have two hours, he's okay with it." She's smiling wide and she bounces on his lap.

"He doesn't seem okay with it." He puts his hands on her thighs, warm and tan and muscled. He loves her body, almost as much as he loves her.

"He is, he will be. Don't worry about it, honey. Okay?" He means to object, to say something about Justin, but she kisses him and her hand is already pushing against his crotch. God, he can't be expected to be this good a person.

He pulls her down on top of him and pushes up her shirt. They shuffle around, getting undressed without letting go of each other. He runs his hands over her pretty ass and squeezes. She giggles. She says, "Do you -- did you bring anything?"

He didn't, of course, he thought he was getting his ass kicked. He shakes his head no. She rolls her eyes and gets up and he thinks for one panicked moment she's going to go next door and ask Justin. But she just goes into her bag on the floor and then straddles him, holding a condom. She waves it in the air like a party favor and then gets back to him.

She lowers herself onto him, like always. She's almost always on top. She says, "So good, so waiting so long, fuck." She's tight and hot and she somehow manages to squeeze him even tighter. He holds onto her thighs and pushes up while she slams down. He thinks it's fucking awesome.

They're both panting and grunting and even over that, he hears music from the other room. Justin, he thinks, doesn't want to hear and he thrusts up again and again and because, fuck, he loves fucking her a lot. He tries not to think the music and the thought of Justin make it hotter. She's loud when she comes and he wants to tell her to be quiet, wants to say, "Justin." He doesn't and he comes right after her and bites his hand but he thinks he's still loud.

She gets off him and pushes him a little and then ties off the condom. "That was too quick," she says smiling.

She starts to walk to the bathroom and he says, "Wait." She stops and smiles at him. "Don't just," Lance says. "I don't want it to be all in his face, okay? Just ..." He waves his hand and covers his face.

She laughs. A moment later she's back beside him. "I covered it with tissue, okay?" She's next to him, rubbing against him. She says, "We still have time. Time, baby."

They talk for a while, make out a little. Lance can't remember when he got here, so he thinks it's been a while and he starts putting on his clothes. She just pulls on her underwear and sits on his lap while he tries to button his shirt. "Missed you so much," she says while she taps on his bare chest with her short finger nails. She keeps her nails very short now, for Christina, he thinks, wears fake ones only when she has to.

He's kissing her, hands on her back possessively when Justin comes back into the room. Justin clears his throat and Lance looks up, lets go of Britney. He looks down at her thighs and says, "Okay, I need to go now."

She giggles and says, "Stay," but he lifts her off his lap. He stands up and buttons his shirt. She says, "Has it really been two hours?"

Justin is standing by the door, arms crossed again and expression somewhere between hurt and angry. He says, "Yeah, it has."

Lance doesn't bother to tuck in his shirt, he just says, "Bye," and he's almost made it to the door when Britney is hugging him.

"Don't leave like that," she says. She kisses him again, says quietly, "I love you, Lance."

Lance keeps his eyes on her, won't look up and whispers, "I love you, Britney Jean." He says, "bye," again, louder and leaves.

*

Justin sits next to him in the quiet room two days later. They've talked a little, just enough for the guys to shut up about everything. Nothing real. Lance feels his stomach turn over because this is probably the something real part.

"Don't tell," Justin says. Lance won't look over and all he can see of Justin is his legs. Expensive sneakers.

"I won't. I told Joey, before. And he knows you know, but. Not the other parts." Not the part about Christina, which Justin still doesn't know, not the part where Justin is letting it all happen still.

Justin says, "Fuck," low and tired. "Okay, that makes sense. Just, um, no one else, please?"

Lance nods, doesn't look to see if Justin is looking at him. He says, "I'm sorry. Seriously, I'm sorry."

Justin says, "You should be." He sighs. He rubs his ankle, long hand reaching down. Justin's hand is gone and then he says, "I just want her to be happy. I want her happy. And she says ..." his voice trails off. "Anyway, I guess it's okay. I get being in love with her. So. Yeah. Just, just don't tell anyone, anyone else. Okay?"

Lance says, "Promise," and then Justin's gone.

*

it's become so obvious
you are so oblivious to yourself
 

When Lance was seventeen, he spent a lot of time thinking about Justin. Definitely a crush, maybe something more. But he kissed Justin and Justin backed away and Lance did the adult thing and forgot it. Not really forgot, but got over it. And he feels guilty about screwing Justin's girlfriend, so their relationship has suffered a lot over the years.

So Lance feels like he can almost evaluate from a distance, can say like a casual acquaintance that Justin's a good person, Justin loves Britney, Justin is an all-around nice guy. Lance doesn't think Justin would say the same about him, and Justin would be right.

Now they're sharing, or something. After two or three times, Justin seems to be okay with it. He's nice to Lance and it's an odd thing that they're better friends now. Which works out well for Britney, after all. She tells Lance, when they're together, or when they're on the phone, how things are with Christina. Brit says Christina is great, they fight all the time, but she loves making up. Lance nods and listens and privately thinks he has a crazy girlfriend.

Joey figures out what's going on, he sees Lance coming out of Justin's room. He pulls Lance into his room and says, "What the fuck is going on now?"

Lance explains and adds, "Justin doesn't want you to know."

"Well, yeah, because it's completely fucked up. He wants her to be happy? So he doesn't give a fuck that you're fucking his girlfriend right in front of him?" Joey slams his hands together and Lance jumps a little.

"He's never in the same room. It's what, look, he's not completely okay with it, but he's mostly okay with it. Are you mad at him?" Lance backs up against the door.

"I'm mad at you for doing this when you know it hurts him and I'm mad at Britney. Scratch that, I'm not mad at her, I think she's a fucking psycho. I want to stay as far away from her as possible. How can she think this is a good idea? How can she -- what the fuck is she thinking?" Joey keeps stepping forward and Lance can't back up any further. Then Joey sighs and says "fuck" again and sits down on the bed.

"He says he's okay with it. I know how it must look but he knows. Joey, he knows he could just say something and I would stop. I would. I would break up with her if he wanted me to." Lance puts his hand on the doorknob.

"How does he know that?" Joey says it quietly, spent.

"He knows. He asked me once, he asked if I would if he asked. And I said yes, and he knows he can just end it." Which is close enough to the truth. If Justin hadn't had his hand at Lance's throat, Lance would have said those things. Lance thinks about running but Joey seems calmer.

"Why would you, fuck. This whole thing is incredibly fucked up and I don't get how you don't see it. You love her, and you'd break up with her just like that if Justin asks? Why?" Joey rubs his forehead and looks down.

"I loved him first."

"Your life is a fucking soap opera, man. And that's not a good thing." Joey looks up. "Just go, okay?"

Lance's life isn't a soap opera, not really. If it were, there'd be endless scenes of drama and revelations and bad organ music. A lot more crying.

Usually Lance wakes up and eats breakfast, reads the paper. Checks his email. Talks to Beth and finds out about things. He has soundchecks and concerts and it's all as ordinary as his life can be. Justin seems happy most of the time, Lance is happy most of the time. When Brit comes to see Justin, she calls him when it's their time. Justin has started arranging things to do so he's not just sitting in an adjoining room. Lance is used to seeing Britney and Justin together after all this time, it doesn't per se bother him. She still calls and he leaves wherever he is when she does because he's the only one who knows about Christina. He goes out some nights, picks up boys. He likes boys. He loves her, he likes getting laid. It's better with her, but he thinks that's more because he's heard sex is always better with someone you love.

*

Britney tells him they have two hours and they're having sex for the second time. Lance thinks they'll finish with enough time for them both to clean up. It just seems polite.

Lance is sitting up, she's in his lap, thighs clamped tight around his waist, and he's gripping the headboard behind him so he can have leverage to push up. Up and he hears something wrong, opens his eyes and Justin is standing in front of the closed door. He looks blank or something else and he bites his lip and covers his face. Lance lets go of the headboard and grabs Britney's shoulder, says, "We gotta."

Britney looks over her shoulder and looks back at Lance, grinning almost. "We don't gotta anything," she whispers and pushes down. Fuck, he is a complete asshole because he's still hard and he doesn't want to push back against her but it's just.

He says, "sorry" but when he looks up Justin is gone. He hears the door to the adjoining room close, so he guesses. He thinks something. He doesn't think at all because Britney bites at his collarbone and he comes like pyro going off right in his head. She makes a low sound and then they're done.

"You said we had two hours," he says, pulling on his clothes.

"Maybe I was wrong," she says, sitting cross-legged on the bed. He doesn't look.

"Maybe you were wrong? Fuck, Britney, he doesn't. He doesn't want it right in his face. We don't, I don't want to do that to him, okay?" He sits down to tie his shoes.

She drapes herself over his shoulders, plays with the hair at the back of his neck. She says, "So it's okay to do it, but as long as he doesn't see? Gimme a break. I bet he thought it was hot."

Lance says, "I bet he didn't. I gotta go now, okay?" She says she loves him and he says he loves her and he leaves.

He finds Justin before the soundcheck and says, "Look, earlier --"

"Shut up." Justin wipes his face, it's hot today. Hot in the summer and Lance looks down. "Just, you know, shut up."

"I'm sorry," Lance says.

"Just, okay, shut the fuck up. It's fine, it's fine and I don't wanna. Stop saying you're sorry." Justin pushes at Lance and then sighs. "You meant what you said that night, right? Right?"

Lance knows what Justin means and he says, "I did. Just, god, say the fucking word."

Justin shrugs. He shakes his head and hugs Lance suddenly and then he's gone again.

*

Lance is almost asleep when the phone rings. Britney says, "Come over," and giggles. "Come over now, honey." She hangs up before he can ask, because, fuck, Justin's there, Lance knows that.

Maybe he left or something, Lance thinks and throws on a pair of sweats before he walks down the hall. Britney pulls him into the room and tugs his sweats down before he can take two steps. "Come on," she says, laughing. She's naked and the room is dark. She kisses him and starts stroking him. Then she dances away and grabs his hand, pulling him into the back room. He kicks off the pants as he stumbles after her.

She's laughing as she takes him inside the room, saying, "He's here."

Lance stops in the doorway. Justin is sitting on the bed, naked to the waist, covers over his legs and his crotch. The room stinks of pot and he can see an empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the bed stand. Britney turns around and says, "Come on. This will be fun."

She's tugging at his hand and he won't move. "What will be fun?"

"Gaaaawd," she says, "Honestly, you'd think you weren't mostly gay. I want," she smiles, "I want to see two guys doing it. My two guys."

Lance says, "No."

Britney tugs again and he falls onto the bed. He scoots back so he's sitting right on the edge. She bites her lip and says, "He's okay with it, gawd. He is."

Lance says, "Are you? Seriously, Justin."

Justin says, "Fuck, okay, it's fine." Lance opens his mouth to say more but Justin surges up from the back of the bed and he's kissing Lance. He tastes like alcohol and Lance can smell it on him, sour sweat.

But fuck, it's Justin. He can't be expected to be this good. Justin is tugging him closer, kissing him, hands on his waist. Then Lance is sitting sort of half on top of Justin, one hand tracing down Justin's chest, hip, thigh. Justin has his hand on Lance's dick and then he's moving, tight strokes and fuck, Lance is moving closer, as close as he can get.

Britney laughs, says, "Good! Like that," from somewhere to his side. She says, "And it's not like Justin hasn't done this before." Justin is kissing him, harsh and fierce. Justin squeezes for a second, in a not good way and then it's back to the good and Lance scratches at Justin's hip, wraps his hand around Justin's dick which is only a little hard.

"I think," she says, "you two should fuck. Like, you should fuck Justin."

Justin's hand falters. He's suddenly not hard at all and he shudders. A second and he's kissing Lance again. Lance breaks off the kiss and closes his eyes. Opens them again and whispers to Justin, "Close your eyes."

Justin closes his eyes and Lance pushes him back onto the bed, lies on top of him for a second, kisses Justin's neck and then. He sits up and puts his hand on Justin's chest, says quickly, "He's passed out."

Brit sighs and crawls over to him. "Seriously? Slap him or something."

Lance looks at her, hair rumpled, naked, hand wet, shaved like a stripper and all he can think is fuck me, fuck me. He says, "I won't. Fuck it, Brit, I'm leaving. How could you -- because obviously if he has to get completely shit-faced to agree to it, he must really really want to do it. Why are." He stops and pulls a sheet over Justin. "I'm going, I'm not kidding."

She snags his arm and says, "Stay. At least the two of us should get off, right?" He doesn't think so, but she kisses him and he hugs her. One last time, maybe.

She wants to fuck and he says, "I can't," because he really can't. "Not with Justin in the actual bed, okay?" She pouts, says something about Justin not even being awake but he kisses her again to shut her up. He uses his hand to get her off, holds her on his thigh with his other hand. As she comes, he looks over her shoulder at Justin. Justin, eyes open, watching him. Justin closes his eyes and rolls over.

Brit falls back on the bed and snuggles up to Justin's back. She says, "Sleep here. Come on."

Lance says no and walks out.

*

She doesn't take it well. He calls her in the morning, makes her come over to his room. He says, "I'm not doing this anymore."

She says, "Why? I don't. It's not about last night, is it? I don't know, look. You know there was a month last year when he was all set on a threesome, he wanted another guy and he wanted it to be you. He kept saying it and I had to talk him out of it, because he didn't know then and I thought it would be too weird. It's not like he doesn't want you. Are you still upset about last night?" She's sitting on the couch, crying a little.

He says, "I can't anymore. I can't, Brit, I'm sorry."

She says she loves him, says his name and Lance says, "I love you, and I can't anymore. I'm sorry." She leaves, almost storms off.

*

He tells Joey after she leaves, not the details, just that he's broken up with her. Because he's going to be sad and he wants someone mostly uninvolved to let him be miserable. Joey says, "Good move. She's a psycho bitch."

Lance just nods and then says, "That's not helping."

Joey says, "Well, I gotta say it once, okay?"

*

After two days of being carefully neutral with Lance, Justin finally says, "It's not because of me, right? She's kinda pissed at me, thinks I made you do it or something."

"You didn't make me do it." Lance shakes his head. Justin never would. "It's sort of because of you, but you don't have to tell her that. I just. I can't be this person anymore."

Justin looks down and says, "Look. She's. She's sometimes a little self-centered, but underneath it all."

"She wants everything, you know? She wants and she doesn't exactly think about how it affects other people. She's kinda used to getting her way." Lance wants to leave all this, walk away from Justin forever. He wonders if he ever will.

"She works for it. She's not just grabbing, she's worked for everything in her life." Justin says it vehemently, like he's used to defending her and he probably is.

"Yeah, but not me. Okay? Look," Lance nudges Justin's shoulder. "It's okay to be happy a little. No more me, okay?" He can't say no more sharing because of Christina.

Justin says, "I just want her to be happy and she's not happy now." He sighs and walks away.

*

She calls him and cries a little. She says, "Can we still be friends? I love you, I do."

He says, "We can still be friends, I just can't. Not the rest, Brit."

So she sighs and tells him all about her latest back and forth with Christina and how they ended up doing it in the back of a limo on the way to somewhere. He nods and makes sympathetic noises.

*

every moment's a little bit later
every moment's a little bit later

 
A month after the break up she calls him crying and asks if there was anything she could do, if he would come back to her. He says, "Break up with both of them. Just you and me, that's all."

She says, "I won't," and cried more. She doesn't call for a week.

*

She calls and says, "I had a fight with Christina."

He says sorry and watches Laura twirling in a dress. A fitting for her friend's wedding or something and she smiles at him. He smiles back.

Britney says, "Do you wanna hear about it or not?"

He says, "Of course, it's fine. But I'm not, I can't really talk here."

Britney snorts. "Are you with her? Fuck, Lance, I'd'a thought you would'a gotten rid of her when the movie bombed."

Lance says, "Actually, that's none of your business, is it?" He does, he thinks, he cares about Laura a lot. She's a lot easier than Brit, which isn't hard. He sleeps with her and it's not great but he has hope. He wants something easy and real for once. Something public without lies and something. Something.

Britney calls him an asshole and hangs up. Laura looks over and says, "Who was that?"

Lance smiles. "My ex," he pauses. And because even Laura's heard those rumors, he emphasizes the first word as he says, "She's a complete bitch sometimes."

*

He brings Laura to the Bahamas and Justin is so nice to her, Lance would think Justin wanted her for himself. But that's not it, at all.

Before a rehearsal, Justin says quietly to Lance, "She's really pissed at you."

Lance sighs. "She has no reason to be. It's not like we had a fight or I did something."

Justin cracks his neck, looks away. Just once, Lance thinks, someday they'll be able to talk about Britney and look each other in the eye. Justin says, "You know I mean Brit, right? Because, yeah, she, uh, she said she hasn't talked to you in a few weeks because you were snippy with her or something. She's kinda upset."

"I knew you meant Brit and yeah. Justin, don't worry about it. It'll blow over. And if it doesn't, it's not, don't worry about it."

Justin will anyway, but Lance has to try.

*

She stopped calling after the "Laura argument," as Lance thinks of it. When he tells Justin that he and Laura have broken up, he starts counting. Waiting for her to call him again. It takes a week.

He'll hang up if she says the wrong thing and he wonders if she knows that. Instead she opens with, "I'm sorry I was so bitchy to you, it was just. You know? It was hard thinking about you with another girl. Not with another guy, because that's different, but with another girl."

He says, "Okay, apology accepted. How are you?"

She's good and he gets the latest Christina update. Christina's gained a little weight, it looks good on her. Britney can make her come in very little time now with just her fingers, but she prefers the longer ways. Brit isn't a bad friend, she always asks about him. She listens, too, he can tell.

She says, "Do you still love me?"

He says, "Yes. But it's easier now, without you. Sorry, but, yeah." She sniffles and they say goodbye.

*

She comes to see the Tacoma show and finds Lance before the show. She pats his hands, sits next to him on a couch and says, "I'm leaving him. I wanted to tell you."

He can't think. He stares at her hands and her short, trimmed nails. "You're leaving him? For her?"

She nods. She looks sad and all he can think is fuck you. "Why?"

She says, "Does the why matter, really? She asked, you know. I just, I wanted you to know."

"Because I asked three times and you never would and she asks and you will? Because, fuck, why are you telling me this?" He pulls his hands away from hers.

"She only loves me, you know?" She stands up. "Look, I knew it would be hurtful to you, when you found out, and honestly, I thought. I wanted to tell you myself."

"When are you telling him?" Lance looks her up and down and she doesn't look any different, really, from when she was sixteen and he kissed her, drunk. She looks harder, that's the difference he sees.

"After the show, I don't want. We have things to work out, you know, publicity and stuff. And I don't want to spoil the show for him."

Lance sputters. "But it's okay to ruin mine?"

She shrugs. "It's different for you."

It is, he supposes. He actually has an okay show. He watches her getting on the bus Justin, JC and Chris share and he just thinks, fucking bitch.

*

In Los Angeles, Justin wants to go out. Christina is there. Justin looks at her and his jaw clenches. He puts on his best smile and hugs her once and grabs some girl and drags her out on the dance floor.

Lance is there because he's supposed to keep track of Justin. Justin of the occasional wild mood swings since Brit broke up with him. Usually, he's fine. He's accepted it, he says. He smiles through the shows, he laughs during the few interviews he's doing. And then late at night, he breaks things. He almost hit Lance two days ago and then he apologized for it over and over again.

They were talking about Justin, all four of them, while he was in the bathroom. Chris said, "I think he'll be fine. He seems to be getting a grip, you know?" Chris looked up at Lance, glaring, maybe, and said, "And we were talking and he told me some things and I think he's starting to realize he really is better off."

Joey said, "I agree with that. She's a psycho bitch." And Lance sighed and the next thing he knew, Chris and Joey had decided Lance should make sure to accompany Justin if he could on Justin's nights out so nothing untoward happened. And the first night, there's Christina. Who Justin knows all about now.

Christina leans over and says to him, "I wonder if they've really really broken up, because the news reports are so confusing." She smirks.

Lance doesn't smile. He says, "I think that has more to do with your girlfriend than anything Justin's done. She's not really interested in giving out the full story, is she?"

Christina shrugs. She's wearing too much make-up. "She prefers to look like the one who got dumped. Justin was okay with it."

"Pretty much the story of those two, isn't it? Justin's okay with it, if it's what Britney wants." Lance orders another drink and watches Justin grope the girl he's dancing with.

"Oh, please. Give me break. Eleanor Roosevelt said no one can make you feel inferior without your consent. Justin chose to be her damn doormat." Christina smiles as someone walks by then turns to him again and glares. "You got him in bed, yet?"

Lance laughs. "No, I haven't." He shakes his head. He's not mad at anyone, really. "How is Brit, by the way. She hasn't, uh, called either of us since the big dumping."

Christina laughs and leans against Lance, like they're pals now. She says, "You make her sound like a polluter or something. She's fine. She's great." Christina lowers her voice. "She's a little fireball in bed."

Lance snorts. "Good for you."

"It's nice," Christina says, watching Justin now. "I thought, you know, she hasn't done this before, but really, a natural from the start, that girl." Christina looks down at her drink. "It's not like I don't love her, too."

Lance says, "I know." Then Justin downs another drink he snags from a waitress. Lance should be counting, because he has to get Justin out of here soon. "She's a very loved person."

"It's not like she didn't love you or him. It's just, you know, nobody said no to her. I know she seems like, you know ..."

"A psycho bitch?" Lance starts to push off from the bar because he needs to watch Justin a lot closer. He doesn't look back, but Christina is right by his side. He feels her arm against his for a moment, still smells her perfume. She wears too much of that, too.

"She's not a psycho bitch. Nobody ever says no to her and she pushes things too far." Christina grabs his arm and turns him around. She's smiling because she has to, because they've already been noticed. "She's twenty years old and people don't say no to her, not you, not Justin. Not her mother, not anyone. She has some growing up to do, but she's not the villain here."

Lance shrugs off her arm and smiles, too. "No one's the villain. I got it. Give her my regards. I have to fucking deal with Justin and it's, it'd be nice if you weren't there, okay?"

She keeps smiling and hugs him and pats his shoulders. "You're a good friend," she says.

Lance finds Justin on the dance floor, extracts him from the girl and pours him into the car for home.

*

Justin sits next to him at the bar. He says, "I miss her."

Lance says, "Yeah. Me, too. But not as much."

Justin rubs his forehead. "Yeah, she didn't leave you because she decided she's a big ol' dyke, so, yeah, I get to miss her more."

Lance presses his lips together and then sighs. "Yup, you win. I'll buy you a drink as your award."

"You fucking better," Justin says. Morose Justin tonight. Lance prefers mostly-happy Justin and the worst of all is fuck-it-all Justin, because then Lance sometimes feels lucky just to keep them both out of jail.

"Good show tonight," Lance says.

"Yeah, sure." Justin drinks half of his glass of bourbon. "But that's. God, I'm fucking grateful to have the shows to do and work. Things I know I can do and I can just concentrate on that and do that. I love that part. And then, you know, I remember. So, yeah, of course it was a fucking good show. I work really fucking hard at that, Lance, how 'bout you?"

Lance rolls his eyes. "I sit on my fucking ass and do nothing for the whole show, Justin, because I know afterwards I have to sit here with you and fucking work at not smacking you. How 'bout that, J?"

Justin laughs and puts his head down.

*

"So it turns out, the love of my life? A big ol' fucking dyke. Do you believe that?" Justin leans close and hisses in Lance's ear. He smells like the strip club. Lance hasn't been to a strip club in a while.

In January, after Britney started speaking to him again since Laura was gone, Lance snuck Brit into a strip club. He told her she'd recognize all the girls' pussies, because they were all shaved like hers. She hit him and said that he was clearly very gay because pussies all looked different. Even from the outside. Then she giggled into her drink and said "pussies" over and over.

Lance found it boring but Brit had a good time. A late birthday present, he called it. Lance paid for a private lap dance and Britney sat on his lap so the dancer was doing it all for her. He was hard when the dance was done from Britney squirming on his lap and his arms around her waist.

Britney shooed the dancer away out of the room and blew him. For old times' sake she said, wiping her mouth.

Now Justin leans in and complains. Lance says, "She was sort of the love of my life, too."

"Yeah, right. Some fucking girl was the love of your life. What about me? You told Joey you loved me." Justin leans back and watches the girl on the bar gyrate.

"We were never. It wasn't a relationship, Justin, you and me. Me and Brit, that was almost three years of my life, you know." Lance is drunk, he thinks, which he shouldn't be when he's watching Justin. But he feels like arguing.

"Well, you know, serves you right. Big gay you and you fall for some girl. Who turns out to be a dyke."

"Whatever," Lance says. "I think the next one, you know, the next real thing, that'll be a guy."

Justin reaches under the table and squeezes Lance's knee. "You takin' applications?"

Lance knocks Justin's hand away and says, "Not from you."

*

"You've been good to me this month," Justin says. "You're fun." Justin is drunk again, not too far gone, but drunk.

"You, too," Lance says and pats Justin's thigh. Another bar and even for Lance they're starting to blend together.

Justin says, "Let's go outside. I want fresh air."

They stand in the alleyway and it smells. The bodyguards wait for them. Justin puts his hand on Lance's arm and says in his ear, "I wanted to fuck you that night. Seriously, yo."

"No, you really didn't." Lance sighs.

Justin laughs and rests his head on Lance's shoulder. "Okay, not that night, no. But a lot of others night, yes."

Lance says, "Good," because he can't think of anything else to say.

Justin presses up close to Lance, arms around his waist and says, "I really like you, you know."

Justin kisses him and Lance kisses back. They stagger to the limo and this time Justin passes out for real before they ever get to bed. It really sucks but Lance thinks it's maybe for the best.

*

JC says, "I think he genuinely wants you. Really. He keeps saying he's worried about the space thing." JC would know because Justin probably talks to him about that a lot. But nobody tells JC anything. Justin won't tell JC about Christina and Lance never did. Lance wonders if JC even knows now.

"There's nothing to worry about." Lance looks over at Justin, already stretching for the show in two hours.

"That's not my point. He's just, you know, everything with Brit and all that, man, I think he really does want you, not just rebound thing." JC stands up and pats Lance's hair.

Joey looks at Lance, watches JC walk away and then he says, "It's really fucked up if you do anything with Justin."

"You think?" Lance slumps even more in his chair.

"Yeah, I think so. Hi, I fucked your girlfriend for three years and now that she's dumped you, can I have you? That's a fucking plan, man." Joey sighs. "Knowing you, it's gonna happen exactly like that."

*

Justin says, "I fucking hate you, you stupid, uh, fucking astronaut wannabe." He lurches again and almost drags Lance down with him as he starts to fall.

Lance keeps them both standing and says, "You're not my favorite person either, dickwad."

"You said you loved me." Justin turns suddenly, loops both arms around Lance's neck.

"I take it back."

Justin rests his forehead against Lance's. "I'm sorry I'm being an ass. I don't hate you at all."

"I still do," Lance says, holding Justin's waist in case he falls again.

"S'okay. I've been an ass. I really like you. I always have, really." Justin's breath smells one hundred proof.

"You're drunk."

"Yeah, but I don't lie when I'm sober, either. So you know, take me to bed, man." Lance laughs and drags Justin back to his room. He ignores Justin's ineffectual grabs at him and goes back to his own room.

*

Justin kisses him before a soundcheck. "I'm glad you're here," he says.

"I wasn't anywhere," Lance says, bewildered.

"I just, uh, I just like you being here on Earth and shit and I think, I wanted to say that." Justin blushes.

"Point taken," Lance says.

*

"Brit's really happy with her fucking publicity," Justin says and throws a balled up napkin at the wall of the hotel room. "It's been really helpful, she says, the confusion and the, uh, other shit."

"You two had a nice talk?" Lance doesn't want to say Britney called him, too.

"Yeah. She called you, too, huh?" Justin looks up.

Lance looks back at him and says, "Yeah. She sounds happy."

"She is, I'm sure." Justin sighs and doesn't look away. "You could, you know, apologize for fucking her behind my back for two years. That might be nice, now and here, uh, or here and now."

"I did, I thought. Didn't I?" Lance blinks and thinks about looking away.

"You apologized for me finding out, I think, and for agreeing to keep fucking her after I knew. Or for being in love with her. Or, uh, for me walking in on you, too. So, I don't think, no, no 'sorry I dicked around with the girl you loved, friend of mine' from you." Justin glares and balls up another napkin.

Lance says, "I'm sorry I was in love with her and sleeping with her behind your back."

Justin snorts. "Good enough. And hey, um, did you ever think about me like, when you were fucking her?"

"In the sense of while we were having sex, was I picturing you?" Lance raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Justin looks tired now.

"Never. I only thought of her." Lance stands up and gets himself a drink. Water.

"Good for you," Justin says. He flops onto the bed. "I'm gonna sleep now."

"Good for you," Lance says. He finishes his water and walks to the door.

Justin says, "Tuck me in?"

"Baby, no." Lance laughs and leaves.

*

One week before the end of the tour, Justin is sober and they're in his hotel room. Justin's kiss is tender or tentative. Lance isn't sure. His hands are already on Lance's pants and there's nothing tentative there.

Lance knows Justin has done this sort of thing before. Not a lot, nothing like Lance and his fucktoy personal trainer and string of one-night stands before, during and after Britney. But Justin's done this. It's not new. Lance kisses back, grips the back of Justin's nearly shorn head.

Then they're naked and Justin is on top of Lance, kissing him. Justin says, "Don't close your eyes."

It turns out Justin does prefer to be fucked, after all, and he smiles when Lance first thrusts in. Justin pushes himself up so they're kissing when Lance comes.

Justin walks a little funny when he follows Lance to the bathroom. He puts his hand on Lance's shoulder and says, "Stay, okay?"

So Lance wakes up and Justin's pressed against him, warm and strong. Fucking nuts, Lance thinks.

Justin mumbles and rubs his eyes. "Good, you're here," he says.

"I wasn't gonna leave, not until you woke up." Lance traces Justin's cheek with his fingers.

Justin blinks a few times and rubs his eyes again. "I just, you know. Look, this is weird. Bonding over our ex-girlfriend, or whatever."

"Is that we're doing?" Lance turns and buries his head in a pillow. Justin runs his hand over Lance's neck and pets his hair. Lance moves his head so Justin can hear him and says, "You just got dumped six weeks ago. I don't trust you."

Justin's draped over Lance's back, his head on Lance's head a little and Lance can feel every movement of his jaw. Justin says, "Point. But, uh, you know, you've only been in love with someone you had to sneak around to see, so, you know, you're not such a catch yourself. But, you know, maybe, right?"

Lance says, "Maybe. But I dunno."

They lie there for a while, and then Lance has to pee and he needs to be somewhere. He kisses Justin good-bye and he walks to his room and thinks, he should call Britney. Telling is addictive. He thinks she'd have good advice.

THE END

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