Lance, Chris, and Justin all had memos waiting in their boxes after rehearsal.

Chris ripped his open ostentatiously. He liked to pretend that he didn't fear anything management could throw at him--hell, maybe he didn't. Chris had attitude, and it was sometimes hard to tell how far beneath the skin it extended.

He scanned the paper quickly, then snorted and crumpled it into a ball. "Fuckers." The ball dropped neatly into the trashcan nine feet away. "They want me to lose weight again. Some freaking anorexic actor's making it big in Australia and fucking with the market reports. Ten pounds in three weeks, damnit."

They all mumbled their condolences, which Chris, typically, shrugged off. "Screw them, anyway. It's not that big a deal. Hey, Joe, you okay with upping our runs to six miles, or am I on my own for that last mile?"

Joey shook his head genially. "Don't be stupid, Kirkpatrick. Where your ass goes, mine follows."

"Shh," Chris hissed, "not in front of the kids!"

Lance and Justin retreated to opposite corners of the room to read their own memos. They weren't Chris, and they'd both been burnt often enough to seek privacy instinctively whenever management singled them out for review.

Justin opened the envelope, trying to will away the queasiness in his stomach, and drew out the paper. Then he read it. Oh, God. His and Lance's eyes met guiltily, and he started to fold the paper into quarters, then eighths, and sixteenths, with suddenly numb fingers.

"So, hey, what's the verdict?" Chris called from the front of the room.

"Private," Lance said, and Justin echoed him, cursing himself when his voice trembled on the first syllable.

He jammed the wad of paper into his back pocket as JC walked over to his corner, frowning worriedly.

"What is it, baby?"

"Really private," Justin said, forcing a smile.

"Everything's okay, though, right?"

"Uh, yeah. Of course it is, Jace," he said, because he had to. He tried to make his smile look more natural, and it must have succeeded because JC smiled back at him and tugged him forward by the hips so that he could kiss Justin's forehead.

"Hey, hey!" Chris yelled. "No PDAs in the rehearsal room."

Justin rolled his eyes, as JC pulled away from the kiss but wrapped his arms around Justin's waist. "Whatever. The only reason we came up with that rule is that you can't figure out the difference between a couple of kisses and fucking on the sofa."

"That happened once, Infant--"

"Twice," Justin said.

"Three times," Lance corrected. "You and JC were in the bathroom, but I was still here."

"--and I don't see where you get off blaming me for it. It's not like I'm doing anything without Joey. You ought to yell at him now."

"Yeah, but you're the one that provokes it," Justin said.

"I think you mean 'instigates,' babe," JC murmured.

"Whatever," Justin whispered back. "It's not like Chris knows the difference."

"Well, fine," Chris said. "It's still the rules, so, JC, stop feeling up your boyfriend."

"What, I can't even hug him now?" JC asked.

"Hugging leads to kissing, kissing leads to groping, groping leads to fucking on the sofa!"

"And fucking on the sofa leads to the dark side," Joey said. "How about we all just get out of here, and then you can grab each other whenever you want."

"Um, okay. I grab Lance!"

Lance edged warily away from Chris.

"You grab Lance, and I'm liable to stop grabbing you," Joey warned.

"Fine. I grab Joey!"

"Please do," Lance murmured, as Chris clambered up onto Joey's back.

"Hey, what about the rules?" JC asked loudly.

"Yeah, as if even you two flexible freaks could manage to fuck in this position. Besides, we're leaving the room. Onward, Joseph!"

As JC and Justin neared Lance, who was lingering at the front of the room, Justin dropped JC's hand and nodded towards the door. "I need to talk to Lance a minute," he explained. "We'll be right out."

JC looked at him sharply, a worried crease between his eyes, but he left the room.

Justin waited until the door was closed, then turned to Lance. "Don't talk to anybody about this. We'll take it up with management tomorrow."

"Yeah, I figured," Lance said. "You gonna tell JC about it?"

Justin shook his head. "JC doesn't need to deal with this. Hell, I don't need to deal with this. I just want to forget about it for tonight, and we'll get it all straightened out tomorrow morning." His voice rose suddenly. "It's just stupid! They know public opinion as well as we do. They know what our demographic wants, and this isn't it!"

And Lance very kindly did not remind him that public opinions changed and that, no matter what, management always knew exactly what it was doing.

By unspoken consensus it was JC and Justin's house that was invaded by the rest of the group that night--despite Justin's telepathic urgings that they be left alone--and they ordered pizza and watched most of a pay-per-view movie. They called it an early night, in part because the movie sucked, but mostly because of Justin's "Get out!" glare, which he'd been directing upon the others anytime JC's back was turned.

"I should make a voodoo doll of you and stick pins in it to rebalance the karma in our relationship," Chris hissed as Justin was showing him to the door.

"Shut up," Joey said amiably, slinging an easy arm around Chris's shoulders. "You're not making sense again."

"The evil eye, Joey! He was giving me the evil eye all night!"

"I think you'll survive," Joey said.

"I wasn't meaning to fuck up your karma," Justin said, rolling his eyes. "I just really need some time alone with JC tonight."

"Ohhh." Chris's own eyes widened in comprehension. "Dude, sorry, I totally didn't get that. Guess I shouldn't buy that voodoo doll after all, huh?"

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't."

Chris nodded decisively. "Right. Okay. We're leaving, then. You two reconnect, or fuck like bunnies, or whatever. See you in the morning, man."

Justin pulled Chris in for a quick hug, and Chris snuffled at his neck a little before blowing a raspberry and stepping back. "I already have a voodoo doll of you, anyway," he said, then scampered down the path to Joey's car.

"I don't let him use it," Joey assured Justin.

"Riiight," Justin said, watching Joey's broad retreating back.

"It's just one of the Justin Timberlake dolls," Lance told him, "Though I think he actually glued some of your hair to its head. Joey showed it to me; he has one for each of us."

"That is insane. What, he just has four voodoo dolls that he's not allowed to use?"

Lance nodded. "He has some that he made himself, too--Wade, Johnny, Lou, the rest of management--but Joey lets him do whatever he wants to those."

"Hey," JC interrupted, coming up behind Justin. "I've finished clearing the kitchen, and now I think I'm just going to bed. Come up when you're done here?"

"Sure," Justin said, turning his head to kiss JC's cheek.

"Night, C," Lance said.

"Good night."

For the second time that day conversation faltered until JC was out of earshot. "I called management right before I ordered the pizza," Justin said, once they'd heard the bedroom door close upstairs. "They set up a meeting for me tomorrow morning at seven. Can you come, or should I do this alone?"

"I'll be there," Lance promised.

"Thanks, man."

"Justin..." Lance paused, frustrated, as he tried to figure out how best to order his words. "I mean, what they're asking is wrong, and it sucks, but it's not...really that big a deal. Are you sure you don't wanna just go through with it, rather than fight management?"

Justin shook his head. "No, I can't. I mean, you have no idea what Jace is like. He might believe it. And, God, what if they decide it isn't enough? What happens if public response is favorable and they want us to do a public hook-up? It was fucking hell sneaking around to be with JC when we were kids, and it would be even worse now. And my fucking contract's coming up for reevaluation in eleven months, and...no. I just need to stop all this shit before it even starts."

"Okay," Lance said soothingly. "We'll talk to them tomorrow. Sleep well, Justin."

Justin snorted, then instantly looked apologetic. "Good night." He leaned forward to kiss Lance's cheek, and Lance stared at him in surprise. "I know we could do it. You're one of my best friends, and I trust you, and I trust myself. It's just what it might lead to that I'm scared of."

"We won't let it come to that." Lance prayed that he was right.

"Hell, no. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bright and early," Lance said, trying out a smile. Justin waited until he'd gotten into his car to click off the porchlight and lock the front door.

Two deadbolts and a chain, and then he turned the security system on, its steady white light indicating that all the doors and windows were secure. He checked them all, anyway. By the time he'd finished and headed upstairs, JC had fallen asleep. Justin stood in the doorway of their bedroom a minute, watching him, lying curled up away from the bedside lamp. He was too thin again; Justin could see the outline of each bone in his ribcage. He looked fragile and very young.

Tiptoeing quietly, Justin stripped off his clothes--leaving them on his side of the bed so JC wouldn't trip over them the next morning--and flicked off the light. He slipped under the covers and JC curled into his warmth. One arm came up around his waist.

"You'd tell me if something were wrong, right?" JC asked into his shoulderblades.

Shit, Justin thought, stroking the soft skin of JC's forearm. "You know I always ask you for help when I need it, Jace."

"Even if you don't need help," JC persisted. "Even if you do and I can't help you, I still want to know if something's wrong."

Justin made a split-second decision. "Listen," he said carefully, "There is something wrong, but I think I can fix it. And, you know, for so many years I needed your help with everything. I just want you to be proud of me. I really want to do this on my own, Jace. And if I can't do it, then I'll know by tomorrow, and I'll tell you then, okay?"

Justin'd made his voice carefully small for the last few sentences, and God bless JC, he reacted exactly as he was supposed to.

"You know I'm proud of you, baby," he said, pulling Justin gently around to face him. "There's nothing you have to do to make me happier with what we have. But if you really want to take care of whatever this is by yourself, you go for it. Just remember I'm here for you."

Justin choked a laugh. "Trust me, C, there's no way I could ever forget that."

JC frowned, but Justin didn't want to explain, was well past wanting to talk at all. Instead, he pressed forward to kiss JC, licking into his mouth until JC's hands were twisted delicately in his curls.

This, he thought disjointedly as JC straddled his body and carefully slid back onto his cock, was everything he'd ever wanted from life, and it was perfect. His hips thrust upwards, instinctively seeking release, but all Justin could feel was his hands on JC's hips, pulling him down tightly against Justin's body, unwilling to ever let him go.

The next morning, though, Johnny's secretary intercepted Lance before they even got to Johnny's door. Lance looked at Justin helplessly, and Justin shook his head in response. There was no sense in making a fuss about the little things and possibly losing his main objective. He'd just have to do it alone.

He wiped his hands down the front of his baggy jeans--a suit wouldn't make management take him any more seriously, so why bother--before turning the knob.

"Justin! Come in," Johnny called, sitting behind his desk.

"Johnny," Justin said evenly.

"You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah," and then Justin had to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room as he waited for Johnny to stop shuffling papers.

"Well," Johnny asked, looking up finally. "What is it?"

"Lance and I got a couple of memos yesterday, Johnny."

"That's certainly part of the job," Johnny said. "Which were these?"

"The ones asking us to make out on-camera when we go up to New York next week." He resisted the urge to clear his throat.

"Oh, right. And?"

"And that might be a bit of a problem, Johnny."

"Hey, Joey has to sleep with girls. All we're asking you to do is slip Lance the tongue for a couple of minutes one night when you're out on the town."

"Joey's bi."

"Yeah, and you're gay, so you shouldn't have any problems kissing a pretty boy. You don't even have to do it more than once--we'll make sure the cameras do a good job of picking it up, extra camera crews, or something."

"You know how possessive JC is."

"Only as much as you like to be possessed, though, right?"

Justin blushed bright red, and he pinched his lips shut to keep from saying anything.

Johnny shook his head. "Baby, the whole world knows how possessive JC is. Why the hell do you think everyone's on the edge of their seat, wanting you and Lance to start something?"

"But, I thought...I mean, JC and I are supposed to have this grand romance, right? With roses and candles and fidelity and all that jazz."

"Your demographic's changing, kid. The target population is several years older, now. They're not interested in Billy and Bobby's high school romance. They want something a little...racier. A little more O-Town."

"Yeah, and look where O-Town is now."

"Well, obviously we'll monitor the situation closely. We're as concerned about the dangers of excess as you are, and we definitely don't want to divide the fanbase over this issue. At the same time, though...your relationship's stagnating. There's only so much happy lovey-dovey shit you can do before it starts getting tired."

"We're not getting tired, though," Justin said. "We're still fresh. JC and I don't have a fucking pre-fabricated relationship. So as long as our relationship's going strong--and you know it is, Johnny--the spark will still be there. Why screw with success?"

Johnny folded his hands on the desk. "Look, Justin, I'm thrilled for you that things are going so well with JC. Honestly. But, you know, it doesn't matter how many 'sparks' you've got when you're in bed with him, if that doesn't translate to the camera. So unless you want to request an early reevaluation of your contract, so we can see about getting some of that action onscreen..."

Justin shook his head and tried to look regretful. "You know I can't do that, Johnny. My contract's all tied up with Lance's. I can't make him deal with an early reevaluation just to get me out of a tight spot."

"What if we severed that connection? In fact, if you promise to request reevaluation of your contract, we can even extend Lance's deadline by a couple of months."

Justin's heart clenched tightly. "That's...a pretty serious offer, Johnny."

"Ratings are down," Johnny said.

"What?! We didn't get a memo about that. How much?"

"That doesn't matter--"

"How much, Johnny?"

Johnny sighed. "Two and a half points."

"But that's nothing. O-Town's used to fluctuate by more than that every week."

"Well, as you pointed out a few minutes ago, you are not O-Town. And it's not just confined to viewers' ratings. Merchandise sales are going down, too, especially the magazines. Your music's still selling strong, but who knows how long that will last?"

"Maybe...maybe it's just what you were saying before about our demographic changing. If we're drawing our consumers from the--what? 18 to 23 year-old range?" Johnny nodded. "--then we have to expect a decrease in certain product sales."

"That doesn't explain the drop in ratings. Put the two together and the situation becomes...worrisome. We have to take certain precautions."

"So either I make out with Lance on camera or JC and I get to have every moment of our lives filmed."

Johnny shrugged helplessly. "Well, yes."

"What if I walk?"

"That's always an option, Justin. Just keep in mind that JC's still going to be in the band, no matter what you choose to do, and as one of his managers I'd have to recommend that--with you out of the picture--he should put in some facetime with Lance."

"So you're saying that either I cheat on JC or you're going to have him cheat on me?" Justin demanded.

"It's not cheating!" Johnny said. "It's acting! You'd think that you kids might have learned that by now. It's just business."

"I see." Justin stood up, only a little shakily. "Thanks for meeting with me today, Johnny."

"You've decided, then?" Johnny asked.

He shook his head and swallowed hard. "No. I still have to talk to JC."

Almost every day that they didn't have rehearsals--and some days that they did--JC could be found at the recording studio. So of course the one day that Justin needed to talk to him and had brought fresh takeout from the sushi restaurant JC liked so much, he wouldn't be there.

Justin had a brief moment of panic in which he was certain Johnny had called JC and told him everything. That JC was home packing an overnight bag and heading over to Lance's. Or, even worse, dumping Justin's stuff out on the driveway, not content with anything less than a clean and irrevocable break.

The door banged open cheerily just as Justin was taking some deep yoga breaths.

"Hey!" JC said, grinning. "What are you doing here, man?" He held up a bag of Thai takeout. "Looks like we had practically the same idea."

"Uh, yeah," Justin said. "I came to talk, too, if you've got the time?"

"Sure. Just as long as I can eat while you talk, 'cause I kind of got distracted and skipped breakfast, and I'm really, really hungry."

"Yeah, sure," Justin said, already unwrapping packages of food.

"So, what's up?" JC asked.

Justin froze up suddenly, despite the fact that he'd hashed out four different ways to open this conversation on the ride over. JC paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, head cocked to the side. "Justin?"

"Yeah."

"What is it?" JC prompted gently.

Justin let out his breath in a long, whooshing sigh and then made himself stop chewing on his bottom lip, before he had the thought that it might actually help his approach. He chewed on his lip for another couple of seconds. "Okay, remember how I said if I couldn't figure that thing out on my own, I'd come to you?" JC nodded, his face concerned. He still hadn't resumed eating, Justin noticed, and he fought the urge to guide JC's fork to his mouth. "Well, yeah. It's about that memo I got yesterday."

"What was in it?" JC asked. A terrible expression washed over his face. "They're not firing you, are they?"

"What? No. Nothing like that."

JC relaxed a little. "Sorry. I was just thinking...memo, worst case scenario."

"Why would that be the worst case scenario?" Justin asked, curious.

JC blinked. "Well, we'd have to sneak around again. Jive wouldn't exactly want a publicized relationship between one of its singers and one of its former singers. So either we'd have to be insanely careful--because this time everyone would be looking for it, we'd have to live in separate houses and everything--or I'd have to leave the band. And as happy as I am about our success, it's kind of pigeonholed me. I really don't think I could find another niche as a paid musician, or at least not one whose songs actually got heard. I know I'm being selfish, I want you and the music both, but--"

"You're not being selfish," Justin interrupted. "You have a right to a career and a boyfriend, and I've always known what music means to you. Don't feel like you have to apologize for being yourself." He squeezed JC's hand, and JC smiled.

"Well, okay then. I won't. If you're not being fired, though, what was in that memo?"

Justin paused for a moment. "The second worst case scenario?"

"Which is..." JC was back to looking apprehensive, though not as terrified as he had been a few minutes earlier.

"They gave me an ultimatum: either I hook up with Lance, or I request that my contract be reevaluated now, rather than in a year."

"Hook up with?" JC asked.

Justin took one look at JC's face and shook his head. "Not like that," he said hastily. "Just, like, making out. One kiss, Johnny said. When we go up to New York."

"But why?"

"I don't know, because they're assholes?" Justin said, frustrated. "Johnny was telling me all this shit about how our ratings are down, we need to target an older demographic, be a little more 'O-Town.'"

"O-Town disbanded."

"That's what I said," Justin snorted. "He just said they'd monitor the situation."

JC nodded and twirled the fork around in his noodles. He kept his eyes focused on the table. "So, um, what are you going to do?"

"That's what I'm here to talk to you about," Justin said. "What do you think we should do?"

JC pushed his food away suddenly. "It's your decision, Justin. You're the one who has to deal with the consequences, either way."

"That's not how I see it. This affects both of us. I don't want to sound pessimistic, but we both know management probably won't settle for a single kiss if I go the Lance route. They couldn't film anything too explicit, but they've got some leeway there. They'd definitely sneak in stuff none of us are comfortable with. Whereas if I had my contract reevaluated, you'd be losing a hell of a lot of privacy. I mean, I know you and Chris, back when it all started...but it's been a long time since then, and you weren't exactly thrilled about it at the time. I'm not going to force you to lose that again if you don't want to."

"How about you tell me what you want?" JC asked, harshly enough that Justin flinched.

"I don't want you to get hurt."

JC's laugh rang hollow. "Don't worry about that. It doesn't matter how you think I'll react; I just want to know."

Justin shook his head. "That's not what I was trying to say. I meant that that's what I want. For you to not get hurt."

"Justin..." JC's face softened. "I'm going to be hurt either way. Just like you are. The only question here is which option you can live with."

"We can live with," Justin insisted.

"That's not...you're the one who would have to be involved with Lance. You're the one whose contract they want to reevaluate, even though you're underaged."

"Bullshit," Justin said. It occurred to him that his original plan of looking so cute and innocent that JC wouldn't dream of breaking up with him over this had flown right out the window several minutes before, but he really didn't care. Especially not now that JC had cast him as Lolita. "I'm two years older than you were when it happened to you. The only difference is that you were 18 when they signed you, and they didn't have to bother with the complete juvenile contract."

"It's illegal," JC said stubbornly.

"Jace..." Justin took JC's hand in his, smoothed a thumb over the back of it. "It's technically illegal, but only because of the contract. According to every other law on the books, I'm an adult. I have been for two years. Which is good for us, because otherwise you'd be in jail right now."

JC nodded reluctantly.

"So there's no point in arguing the legality of it, since we can't do anything about it. Asking me to hook up with Lance is completely legal, and I'm under contract to do it if asked. Suggesting that I request a reevaluation of my contract is technically illegal, but I'm twenty--no jury would bust them on that if we took it to court. Especially since I'm equally in violation of contract if I don't go along with the Lance thing."

JC nodded again, his mouth twisting in a grimace.

Justin sighed. "Look, does it help if I tell you that the reason I can't decide what I want is that I think both options suck, utterly and completely?"

"I don't...maybe?"

He squeezed JC's hand. "Well, it's the truth. So, please, tell me which option you hate the least. I promise I won't automatically follow your wishes without thinking about it some more, but I really need to know how you feel."

JC pursed his lips. "See," he said finally. "The problem is that we don't know what's going to happen in the future. Right now it looks like you're going to have to get reevaluated eventually, so why not do it now, but...you never know, we might disband before then."

"That's not very likely, though."

"It's still a possibility. And, you know, there's not much that's keeping management from, like, totally running our lives. Beyond the fact that we can always quit if it gets too bad, I mean."

"And if I ask for reevaluation, there goes our last bargaining chip," Justin agreed. "So you just don't want me to do anything irrevocable yet."

"Yes," JC said relievedly. "Exactly. 'Cause, you know, if they want you to do too much with Lance later, then you can say you want the reevaluation instead. But at least that'll be later and not now. And, like, what if you were to ask for the reevaluation instead of making out with Lance, and then they waited a month and said, okay, now you have to sleep with Lance on-camera."

"Shit, I didn't even think of that." Justin's mind raced. "Wait, they wouldn't be able to. Johnny said that if I asked for reevaluation they'd be willing to extend Lance's contract."

"Well, AJ then. Or Chris. It doesn't matter who it is, the point is then you'd have to do it or they'd get you for breach of contract."

Justin shook his head. "I'm getting scared, now. I mean, I can't believe we've been so lucky until now. And no matter what I decide, we're going to be dealing with that shit within the year. Jace," his face was very serious, "I really don't know how Chris and Joey deal with all that crap, but I do know that I don't ever want to do what they do. Maybe I should ask for reevaluation, but get them to put in, like, a fidelity clause, or something. They can videotape my naked ass all they want, but only if I'm naked with you."

JC snorted. "I don't think there's any precedent for that, and you can bet management isn't gonna want to get innovative."

"There has to be some precedent. Britney and Fred--"

"--are married. And since adultery's illegal, management couldn't write it into the contract, so it's totally their call if they do or not."

Justin beamed. "Well, there's our solution. All we have to do is get married, plead religious convictions, and we're set."

JC stared at him. "All we have to do is what?"

"Get married." Justin looked suddenly shy. "Unless you don't want to. But it really would solve almost all of our problems."

"Justin. Married. That's, like. You don't get married because it's easier."

"Well, duh. You get married because you're in love and you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody. How does that not apply to us?"

"But. you. Marriage is, like, permanent, and you're so young, and..." JC was waving his hands in the air, trying to make his point.

Justin grabbed one and held it carefully. "I know, JC. It's big and scary and serious. And if you're not ready, that's fine. But I'm already committed to you forever. For me, getting married means more freedom, not less. I'm not saying you have to feel the same way. But this is...I just want you to know that I'm proposing to you, because I love you, and you can accept now or wait until we're, like, ninety, and the offer will still stand."

JC looked away embarrassedly as his eyes spilled over. "Um, okay. So, I'll accept now, I guess." He wiped his eyes quickly with his free hand.

"You...really...God." Justin pulled at his hand until JC got up off his chair and slid into Justin's lap. His arms wrapped tightly around JC's waist. "I didn't think you'd just say yes," he mumbled, his face buried in JC's neck. "I thought for sure you'd make me wait a while, and I just...God, I love you."

JC reached up wonderingly to caress the short curls at the back of Justin's neck. "I love you, too." When Justin lifted his head for a kiss, the taste of tears was sweet on his tongue.

Suddenly Justin pulled away, a strange light in his eyes. "You know who else is going to love us?" he asked breathlessly. "Johnny. He'll probably want to plan the wedding. This thing is going to be bigger than Charles and Di's wedding, it's gonna put Johnny's kids through medical school, and before any of that happens, you and I are going to get a lawyer and negotiate the best entertainment contract ever."

"I think," JC said slowly, "that I absolutely love the way your mind works. And we should definitely invite Johnny to plan the wedding--his ties always match his socks, right? So he has to have a good eye for color."

Justin whooped triumphantly. "We'll have to work on the wording of that invitation a bit, but...this is totally going to be the best thing that ever happened to us."

JC nodded. "Better than 'N Sync, even," he said, and amazingly, wonderfully, Justin could see that he really meant it.