*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Then came the string of boyfriends.  Chris wasn't as happy then.  First there was Jurian.

Jurian was about as tall as Justin, with hazel eyes and blond hair that was always flopping into his eyes.  He was in some college somewhere, majoring in math.

Chris hated math.

"So, wait," he said at lunch one day, interrupting a conversation between Jurian and Lance about logic.  He'd missed the beginning of the conversation, so he had no idea how the fuck they'd actually gotten onto the topic, but it was making his head spin.  The two looked at him, Lance a little wary. Chris ignored him.  "So, I didn't like math as a kid.  Therefore, logically, I still hate math as an adult. With me?" Jurian nodded.  Lance started glaring at him, so Chris shifted his eyes towards Jurian before continuing.  "You are a math major...and I hate math.  Therefore...I hate you.  Is that logical?"

Lance scowled.  "Chris--"

But Jurian laughed.  Chris restrained the urge to roll his eyes.  "That was a good one," Jurian said.  "You hate me, that was good.  That was a joke, right?  Wait."

Lance was still scowling but Chris ignored him.  He lifted his glass towards Jurian and offered a smirk before taking a sip.  Jurian laughed again.  This time, Chris didn't bother stopping his rolling eyes.

Jurian had a laugh like a fucking hyena.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lance and Jurian were together for the entire summer of 2000, almost the length of the No Strings Attached tour.

Chris had never spoken to Lance less in the time they'd known each other.  He made his dislike of Jurian very clear.  Since Lance was always with Jurian, or talking to Jurian, or calling Jurian, Chris made it his purpose to avoid Lance whenever possible.

Lance had never really forgiven him for what Joey liked to call "the logic incident."  Chris didn't really see what the big deal was; it wasn't like Jurian the Big Bad Mathematician had used his stupid logic-minded brain to figure out what was a thinly veiled insult and what wasn't.  He still had no idea about how Chris really felt, and Chris figured that should be a clue as to how smart Jurian really was.

Chris was sure Jurian was a perfectly nice guy, after all, Lance stuck with him.  The other guys didn't mind him.  But that laugh--

Chris sighed, watching the pair talk in a corner of the toy room.  He liked to think of himself as a funny guy.  He liked to make people laugh.  But every time he said something and Jurian laughed, he wanted to punch the guy in the face. It was almost enough to make him vow to never ever say a funny thing ever again.  Jurian's laugh wasn't endearing like JC's giggle.  It was obnoxious.  It was high and shrill and almost maniacal, and it sounded like a hyena.  A hyena killing a bunch of screeching cats.

And it was going on that very minute, across the room.  Chris unconsciously pressed the heels of his hands to his ears and shook his head a little bit, willing it to go away.  He turned around when he felt a poke on his back.

JC had sidled up to him, and grinned, leaning close.  "Don't worry," he said, his breath hot on Chris' ear.  "Jurian's not his type."

Chris looked at him in surprise, but JC just grinned again and scampered away.  Chris looked after him for a minute, and then put his hands over his ears again.

A hyena killing a bunch of screeching cats in heat.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jurian and Lance broke up right before the end of the No Strings tour.  Chris felt like throwing a party, but wasn't sure if Lance would really appreciate such a grand gesture.  Instead, he wandered up to Lance at lunch about a week later, and asked, "do you still hate me?"

Lance flicked his wrist at him.  "Go away."

"No, c'mon, Lance," he said, plopping his plate down, "you can't really still be mad at me.  You and that math geek broke up.  It's okay for me to not like him now."

"He wasn't a math geek," Lance mumbled.  He wasn't eating.

"Oh, shut up," Chris said, pointing a potato chip at Lance.  "He was a geek.  He tried to have a conversation with me about the logarithm of the cosine of the angle of some fucking triangular rock he found on the side of the road."

"He did not," Lance said, but there was a half smile on his face.

"He did too," Chris retorted.  "Jesus, I was ready to stab my own eardrums out with a fork."

"Maybe you should've," Lance muttered.

"You don't mean that," Chris said.

"Yes I do," Lance told him.

"Pshhh," Chris said.  "You wouldn't want me to lose my eardrums.  Without hearing I couldn't sing, and then where would you be?  No more *NSYNC, and all because of the stupid math geek."

Lance pushed his food around on his plate.  "We'd find someone to replace you," he said, looking up.  "Audition some girls."

Chris made a strangled sound.  "You pain me, Bass," he said, stricken.  "Girls? Ow."

Lance finally smiled.  "That's what I was going for."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chris could remember the exact day when he first thought Lance was pretty okay.  He was wary of the new kid when they first met, of course, but that quickly went away when he saw what Lance was really like.

What really cemented it, though, was the way Lance scared Justin half to death with driving test horror stories a month after they'd met him.

Lance had come to them right after getting his license.  Justin, at the time, didn't have his.  After a basketball game, he and Chris walked in on Lance reliving his test to Joey.  JC had been sleeping on the couch.

"So then this pickup dipped into my lane, and I freaked and shifted over, and came like, this close" he demonstrated with his thumb and forefinger, "to hitting a mailbox.  The guy started like, shaking his head, and--"

"Oh, man," Joey said.  "That's nothin'. On my test I was so nervous I wasn't paying any attention to the people on the sidewalks, right? Some little old lady was about to cross the street and I almost flattened her."

Lance grinned.  "I ran over a bird, too."

Justin's eyes were wide, but Joey just grinned back at Lance.  "You hit a bird? Score, dude!" and high fived him.

Justin sputtered, "but, that's not cool! He-- a bird! What?" his voice got so loud that JC woke up with a start, rubbing his eyes.

Lance shrugged.  "I figured that if it had enough sense it would fly out of the way like a normal bird, but it just kinda stood there an' hopped around a little bit.  Maybe I put it out of its misery, or somethin'.  The guy thought it was nice that I 'didn't get distracted,' though, so it was all good."

JC yawned sleepily.  "What're we talkin' about?" he asked.

"Driving tests," Lance said.

"I'm never getting my license," Justin declared.  "I'll be nice and safe and not running over birds and old ladies and hitting mailboxes and whatever else you shitheads did.  And I won't be on the road with crazy freaks like you."

JC frowned.  "Who hit a bird?"

Chris snorted. It was just like JC to point out the bird and not the little old lady.  "Lance."

"Not on purpose," Lance said.  "I just kinda, you know, crunched it. A little."

"You hit a bird?"

Lance winked at him.  "You can't say nothin' bad ever happened to you."

JC shrugged. "I didn't hit a bird, that's for sure.  My legs were shaking the whole time and I almost ran a red light, but that was about it."

"Dude, a red light?"

JC smiled sheepishly.  "I wasn't paying much attention to the lights, I was too busy trying to see the guy's clipboard."

Chris grinned.  "I got you all beat," he said.  "You know how you drop them off at the curb at the end? I didn't wanna hit the curb so I was real careful about pulling up to it, but when the guy opened the door I was like six feet away and he had to take this giant leap to get to the curb."

"But you'd already passed the test, right?" Joey asked.

"Oh, yeah," Chris said.  "He kind of glared at me, but there wasn't much he could do about it."

"Oh," Lance said, "guess what else I did."

"Ran over a puppy?" Justin asked sarcastically.

"Nah," Lance said.  "I had to park and when I finished pulling out I forgot I was still in reverse so I went backwards and almost hit the car behind me."

"Dude," Justin yelped, "how the hell did you pass?"

Lance shrugged with a sheepish grin.  "I have no idea."

Justin threw his arms in the air.  "I am never driving in Mississippi," he said.  "Y'all are backwards."

It was then that Chris decided Lance was a pretty cool guy.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

About a month after Jurian, there was Jack.

Jack O'Connell was the exact same height as JC, with blue eyes, fair skin, and blond hair.  Lance and Jack got together in August, just a little while after Jurian.

Jack, Chris decided, was a fucking freak.  Chris didn't like him.

Of course, Jack didn't like Chris either, so it worked out.  Chris thought maybe that should clue Lance in on whether or not he should be dating such a guy, but obviously not.  Chris couldn't really bring himself to be hurt by the fact that Lance was dating someone who didn't like one of his friends. Chris had to admit that at least Jack understood dislike when he saw it. 

"He's a freak," Chris complained to Joey.  "He has like, a bazillion different complexes and they're all stupid as shit."

Joey looked at him oddly.  "Like what?"

Chris thought for a second.  "Like when he eats he has to have a different fork for each food."

Joey eyed him skeptically.  "And that makes him a freak."

"Yes," Chris said matter-of-factly.  "And, he's afraid of chickens."

Joey lifted an eyebrow.  "Chickens?"

"Yes," Chris said.  "Chickens.  Living and dead.  I offered him something from KFC last week and I think he would've killed me if he wasn't so busy hiding behind Lance.  Who, by the way, got mad at me for it.  How the fuck was I supposed to know the idiot was afraid of chicken?"

"Everyone's afraid of things, Chris," Joey said pointedly.  "You're afraid of heights."

"It's a phobia," Chris corrected, annoyed.

Joey rolled his eyes.  "So maybe he's a chicken-o-phobic."

"Alektorophobic," Chris muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Fear of Chickens.  I looked it up.  Not sure if that applies to running away from a drumstick, though."  Chris snorted.  "Freak."

Joey sighed.  "Don't mess this one up for Lance too, okay?"

"What do you mean?" Chris asked innocently.

"Oh, come on," Joey said.  "Anyone with half a brain could tell you hated Jurian."

"Jurian couldn't tell."

"Jurian was an idiot."

"This I know," Chris said.  "Math major my ass.  What good is a brain if you can't tell when I'm insulting you?"

Joey rolled his eyes.  "Just don't be an asshole."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chris idly watched the others mill around during a break for the VMA show rehearsal.  Taking a long sip from his water bottle, he looked down and noticed his shoe was untied.  Fascinated, he kicked his foot around, watching the laces flop about.

"File that one under the 'you know you're bored when....' category," Justin said, collapsing on the chair next to him.

Chris glanced over at him.  "Hmm," he said, nodding.

"You gonna tie that or just let it sit there?" Justin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You gonna tie it for me?" Chris replied, raising his own.

Justin rolled his eyes.  "You wish."

Chris smirked.  "Then I guess it's gonna stay how it is." He took another swig from his bottle.

Justin's eyes rolled again.  "Suit yourself," he said.  "Sometimes I forget you're one of the wierdos with the chronically untied shoes."

Chris grinned at him.  "I suppose it comes with tying them the wrong way."  He'd never tied them the normal way, instead opting for his own looping and twisting and tucking of the laces that really only worked for about ten minutes before the shoes were untied again.

Justin shook his head, but smiled.  "You gonna dance like that?"

Chris shrugged.  "Nah. I'll find someone to tie it for me before then."

"Dude, I know you know how to tie your own freakin' shoes.  Even if you have a fucked up way of doing it."

"But see," Chris said, "that would involve actual effort."

"Oh, my mistake.  Deepest apologies."  Another eye roll.

"Forgiven," Chris said, flicking his wrist.  He turned towards Justin, catching him in the middle of his eyes rolling once more.  "Do that one more time and I swear to God, I'm going to pull them out of your head and eat them."

Justin looked amused.  "What, my eyes?"

"Yes."

"You wouldn't do that."

"I would too."

"No, you wouldn't," Justin said.  "Sure, you'd pull 'em out, but you wouldn't eat them.  You'd sell them on e-bay and make tons of money, because they would be the eyes of Justin Timberlake--"

"oh, shut the hell--"

"God of Pop Music and Fantasy to Millions."

It was Chris' turn to roll his eyes, but he grinned a little, because he knew Justin didn't take himself seriously.  Too seriously, he amended, watching Justin examine his nails.  "I'll be right back," he said, standing up, and Justin grunted his acknowledgment.  Chris smirked and thumped him on the back of the head and ignored the squawk of protest while he raised his arms above his head, stretching his back muscles.  Careful not to step on the untied lace, he walked out of the room in search of a vending machine.  He turned when he heard Jack come up next to him.  "Um," he said, "hi."

"Hi," Jack said. Chris waited.  "Your shoe is untied," Jack said.

Chris lifted an eyebrow but kept going.  "I'm aware," he said.

"Oh, um. Are you going to tie it?"

Chris thought, the fuck do you care? but said "eventually."

"Like when?"

Chris turned his head.  "What?"

"When are you going to tie it?"

"I thought never would be nice.  Why?"

"Because," Jack said, "I kind of have this. thing. With untied shoelaces.  It bugs me."

Oh, Chris thought, another thing.  "Hm," he said out loud.  While they walked, he kicked out his foot so Jack would be sure to see the laces.  "Sucks.  Doesn't bother me.  No one said you had to follow me."

"You could trip and fall.  And it looks untidy.  An untidy appearance doesn't reflect well on a person's character."

Chris rolled his eyes.  Who did this guy think he was?  "Do I look like I give a shit?"

Jack sighed.  "I'm trying to be nice."

Chris stopped by the vending machine.  "Obviously you're not trying very hard."

"I just said--"

"Dude, they're my fucking shoes, all right? I'll tie 'em when I feel like it."

"God, Chris, what the hell is your problem?"

"You lecturing me on my fuckin' shoelaces, for one.  You being an asshole, for two.  Would you like me to keep going, or should I stop there?"

Jack rolled his eyes.  "I don't know what Lance sees in you," he said, turning around and walking away.

"I could say the same for you," Chris called after him.  He turned back to the machine.  "Jerk," he muttered under his breath.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Asshole tried to lecture me about my shoes," Chris said to Joey by way of greeting as he dropped a bag of chips on his head. "Another friggin' complex."

"He what?" Joey opened the bag with a nod of thanks.

"Yeah," Chris said.  "You know how my shoes are always untied?  He told me it bugs him when shoes are untied.  And then he said it was untidy.  The fuck, man?"

"Okay," Joey said slowly, "I'll admit that's a little weird."

Chris pulled open his own bag.  "Yeah," he said.  "Just a bit.  Fucker.  It's because he's Irish, I bet," he added, tossing a chip into his mouth.

Joey looked at him strangely.  "Chris, dude, you're Irish too."

Chris scowled at him. "I know that," he said, "but I meant that he's one of those annoying ones."

Joey shook his head.  "Dude, that's messed up, stereotyping your own heritage."

"He's not a true Irish," Chris said stubbornly, stealing one of Joey's chips.  "He's a faker.  I, on the other hand, am awesome."

Joey shook his head again.  "Your logic amazes me."

Chris stole another chip.  "Dude, I hate logic.  Remember? This was why Jurian was bad."

Joey smacked Chris' hands.  "Eat your own damn chips," he said, "and Jurian--"

"You know, eating junk during rehearsal probably isn't good for you."

Chris rolled his eyes at the new voice.  "Yeah, well fuck you," he said.  "I think I know what I can fucking do and not do during a rehearsal, thank you very much.  I'm not sure, but I think that after five years I know what I'm doing.  Maybe."

"I was just saying--"

"Yeah, well don't say it," Chris snapped.  "Jesus, where does Lance find these idiots?"

"Idiot standing right here," Jack said.

"Hi," Chris said, then turned back to Joey with a wink.  "You know, I was gonna stop by McDonald's, later, you wanna come?  Maybe get some chicken nuggets, or something?"

Jack rolled his eyes.  "The word doesn't scare me, you asshole."

Chris clucked under his breath.  He did a pretty good impression of a chicken, if he did say so himself.  He grinned when Jack jumped.  "Obviously, you're afraid of the sound."

"Hey," Jack looked nervous, "fuck you, man."

"Man, what kind of chicken is afraid of a chicken?"

"Chris," Joey warned.  "Stop." But he was fighting a grin, Chris could tell.  It was always obvious when Joey smiled.

Chris clucked again.

Jack turned to leave.  "You're a fucking bastard, Kirkpatrick."

"No, hey," Chris said.  "Stay a while.  Chat.  I won't cluck anymore, I promise."

Jack turned back.  "That doesn't make you any less of a bastard."

"Yeah, well," Chris shrugged.  "I don't make apologies."  He glanced behind Jack when he saw JC making his way over to the group.  "Hey, C."

"Hi," JC said.  "What's goin' on?  Oooh, are those chips?" Chris nodded and held out his bag.

"What," Jack said, "you don't care either?"

JC shrugged, but gave Jack an odd glance.  "They can eat whatever the hell they want, dude."  He took a handful and flashed him a bright grin.  "It's our own fault if we puke."

"Yes, because that's professionalism."

"Jack, I swear to God, man, you're pushing my fucking buttons."

"I wasn't aware you had any."

"Dude," Chris said, "just keep your fucking mouth shut, all right?"

"You know, for someone with your target demographic, you use the word 'fuck' an awful lot."

Chris glared, knowing bait when he heard it.  "You--"

JC nudged Chris, bending over to whisper in his ear.  "This turkey isn't Lance's type either," he said, pulling back with a grin.

Chris gave him a surprised look, but looked at Jack again.  "You're right he ain't," he said, directing his words to JC.

"Isn't," Jack said, looking annoyed.

"The fuck?"  Chris glanced at Joey and JC, agitated.

"Whatever he just said, you said 'ain't.'  The correct English would be--"

Chris punched him in the mouth.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chris waited for Lance to come after him.  He knew it would happen.  The question was just when.

It happened at his house, two days after what JC had started calling "the day Chris bruised his hand for bad grammar."  JC was with him, hanging out because he was in one of his moods where he didn't want to be alone and would curl up around the nearest one of them whenever he felt like he was.  Currently, his head was in Chris' lap, and Chris was proud of the fact that he'd managed to keep his legs still for the purpose.

Lance didn't even bother knocking, Chris had given them all keys when he moved in, and walked straight into the room, apparently still angry.  "Chris," Lance said, giving JC a passing glance, "you didn't have to fucking hit him in the face."

"Sorry," Chris said with a shrug, "he was bothering me."

"By doing what?"

"Correcting my English.  Telling me when and when not to eat.  Telling me to tie my shoes.  God, if he was that controlling with me, I can't imagine how he is with you, dude.  I'm not even the one dating him."

"He's really pissed at you," Lance said flatly.  "And frankly, so am I."

"For what?" Chris asked. "It's not I like wrecked his face."

"I thought he showed good self-control," JC offered helpfully from Chris' lap.  "I thought he was going to do a heck of a lot more than hit him in the face."

"No one asked you," Lance snapped.

"Hey," Chris said.  "Leave him out of this.  If your beef is with me, then bitch at me.  I don't give a shit about you yelling at me."

"Good," Lance said, "because I'm not going to let you off easy on this one, Chris."

Chris flicked his wrist.  "Lecture away."

"This is your problem," Lance said, "you don't take anyone seriously.  You say stupid shit and piss people off and it's really annoying as fuck.  And there was really no need for you to punch my boyfriend in the face."

"He was annoying me," Chris said with a shrug.  "I'd do it again in a minute, so I think you oughta keep him away from me for a while."

"You're a bastard," Lance said.  "You're supposed to be supportive.  Not punching them in the face."

"Hi," Chris said, "I've been around a hell of a lot more than you have.  I know a jerky guy when I see one, and Jack is a fucking jerk."

"You don't have the authority to decide that," Lance said quietly.

"Look, Lance," Chris said.  "If someone is an asshole to me, I'm going to be an asshole back.  That's the way it's always been and that's the way it will always be.  It's never going to change.  It doesn't matter if he's your boyfriend or whatever.  And it doesn't help when they're neurotic as fuck, by the way."

Lance was quiet for a minute. "Just don't hit him again," he said, and left without another word.

"Well hey," JC said from Chris' lap.  "That went well."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lance and Jack broke up a week later.  Chris couldn't say he was surprised, and told Lance so when he used his key to unlock Lance's front door.  Lance gave everyone keys, too.

"Well," Lance said in response, "maybe the fact that you were always harassing him--"

"He was a jerk," Chris said.  "He wasn't right for you."

"And you know what's right for me," Lance said flatly.

"I know what's wrong for you," Chris said.  "Jack was an asshole with some really fucked up issues."

"It made him unique," Lance muttered.

"It made him a jerk," Chris said.  "Did I tell you about the shoelace lecture?" Lance shook his head, and Chris rolled his eyes.  "Dude, he got upset because one of my shoes was untied.  If that's not a sign of a problem, then I don't know what is."

Lance rolled his eyes.  "You suck," he said.

"Your grasp of the English language astounds me."

"You know who you sound like, now," Lance said.  "You sound like that jerky ex of mine you loathe."

Chris clutched his chest with his hands.  "No," he said, sounding choked.  "Say it ain't so!"

"I'm afraid it is," Lance said.  He shrugged.  "Sorry."

Chris spun around before falling to the floor in a mock faint.  After coming to terms with the fact that Lance wasn't planning on helping him up, he stood up and dusted off his knees.  "So why'd you guys break up?"

Lance shrugged.  "Just because," he said.

"You're not gonna tell me this one, either?" Chris asked, sighing.  "You didn't tell me why you and Jurian broke up, either.  You know, how are we gay men supposed to stick together if you don't give me all the details?"

"You're just like a girl," Lance said.  "I'm not gonna tell you."

"Ow, man," Chris said.  "You're lethal."

Lance shrugged.  "I try.  We can't all be nice and flowery."

Chris turned to go, but stopped, hearing something in Lance's voice.  "Hey," he said, "you okay?"

Lance shrugged.  "I don't know," he said.  "I just kind of, you know, want to find something that works."

Chris clapped him on the back.  "Don't worry," he said,  "you'll find him eventually."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Once, during a moment of pondering, Chris came to a conclusion about Lance.

He always knew Lance was good at making people think he was the nicest guy in the universe.  He was, of course, a nice guy, but he never let people take advantage of it. After Lou, something in him changed.

Though, Chris supposed, they had all changed.  But Lance became hardened.  Chris shook his head.  Maybe hardened wasn't the right word.  More...guarded.  He got more indifferent to things, more detached, maybe.  It kind of made Chris sad, because the Lance they'd first met had been goofy and open and trusting of just about everyone.  Including Lou, which was everyone's problem.

Chris could remember the day Lance collapsed like it was yesterday.  He remembered the tired, almost defeated look in Lance's eyes, how sick he was in between songs, everything.  Mostly, he remembered seeing him go down and then trying to find Lou so he could beat the bastard's face in.  If Justin and Joey hadn't had the presence of mind to follow him and hold him back, he was sure he would've killed Lou.  Whenever someone hurt his family, the rage just built up inside until it almost consumed him.  After Joey and Justin found him, everything after that, like the hospital and the Lance-less concerts, was just a blur.

That was when it first started happening, Chris decided.  To the guys and his family, Lance was open, and one of the sweetest, most genuine guys Chris had met.  But to outsiders...he was more closed off.  Especially when something big happened -- later, he'd act like it was nothing, but anyone who loved him could tell how he really felt. 

And Chris hadn't really shown it, but he'd been sort of glad Lance had found someone in Jurian and then Jack, even if they were brainless neurotic idiots who didn't deserve brain cells.  But then, for whatever reason, neither relationship had worked out -- not that that really bothered Chris -- and Lance started getting that defeated look in his eyes. 

Chris wondered if maybe Lance was just tired of letting people get close enough to see the side that was only for family.

Or maybe just tired period.

That fact distressed him in a way he didn't really understand, but he vowed to make sure he kept a closer watch on Lance.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Five months and twelve days after Lance and Jack broke up, Lance announced he was seeing someone new.

Not that Chris was keeping track.

The new guy's name was Sebastian.  When Chris first met Sebastian, he wasn't really sure what to think.

Sebastian was tall and muscular with blond curly hair down to his shoulders.  He had a beat up white van with three-foot tall speakers in the back of it that he bought out of some guy's truck for a hundred and fifty dollars.

No one really knew what to make of the guy when he followed Lance to rehearsal one day, and Lance said, "hey, guys, remember that guy I was telling you about? This is Sebastian."

Chris shook the guy's hand, but at the same time, the only thing he could think was where did he find this guy?

For the rest of the day, all he could do was stare at Sebastian, so much that Lance wandered over during a break and said, "so, have you decided so soon? Do you already hate him?"

Chris shrugged.  "I'm not sure yet.  I can't figure this guy out."

"I'm going to take that as a good thing," Lance said.  "Do me a favor and try to like him, okay? Because, you know, I do, and."  He stopped, and blushed, and looked so fucking cute that Chris just had to slap him on the back and say

"hey, kid. I'll do my best to like your boy, don't worry," even thought he didn't want to.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They were still rehearsing a week later, and Chris still hadn't figured out whether or not he liked Sebastian.

"What do you think?" he asked JC.

JC shrugged, watching the pair.  "I don't know," he said.  "First glance, absolutely not Lance's type at all.  But look at how happy he's making him."

Chris sighed.  "See, that's my problem."  They both watched Lance for a minute, grinning about something with Sebastian on the other side of the room.  Chris spoke up again.  "He seems kind of...I don't know. Out there.  Not...I don't know. Just, not Lance."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," JC said.  "I don't know, dude.  He seems like a cool guy."

Chris sighed.  Something wasn't right.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"So," Lance asked, "have you passed judgment, yet?"

Chris looked at Lance.  He looked nervous.  Chris sighed, and glanced at Sebastian, who was eating lunch and talking to Justin.  "He needs a haircut."

Lance let out a breath, and waited a second.  "Is that all you can come up with?"

Chris shrugged.  "So far.  Sorry if I disappointed you."

Lance grinned, grabbed Chris by the shoulders, and kissed him on the cheek.  "Thank you," he said, running across the room and back to Sebastian.

Chris was left to stare after him with a hand on his cheek.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chris was horrified when he found some common ground with Sebastian.

He had a motorcycle.

Chris was beside himself.  He wasn't supposed to have something in common with one of Lance's boyfriends.  It just wasn't right.

He was almost ready to sell his own before Justin talked him out of it.

Justin liked Sebastian, because Sebastian liked basketball and motorcycles and didn't make annoying cracks about how he was going to steal Britney away.

Chris supposed the gay thing had a little something to do with that, but he didn't want to be the one to burst Justin's bubble.

JC...Chris wasn't sure about JC.  He didn't seem to mind Sebastian, but lately, JC was going through a phase where he didn't really like hanging out with anyone that wasn't in the group.  Sebastian wasn't in the group, and also only listened to heavy metal, something JC hated with a passion because he really thought it was just a lot of noise.

Sebastian, so far, had even been so good as to not make fun of their music, which was a plus.  Chris was waiting for it so he could use that as his reason for disliking the guy.

It didn't once occur to him that finding a reason to hate Lance's boyfriend was mean-spirited.

He thought of it more as...looking out for Lance.

That's what he liked to tell himself.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chris wasn't sure about what Joey thought, either.

On the one hand, Sebastian made Lance happy, and so that in turn made Joey happy.

But on the other hand...Chris made his way over to Joey, watching him watch Lance eat with Sebastian on the other side of the room.

Suddenly, Sebastian picked up Lance over his shoulder and spun him around a few times, Lance shouting "Put me down! No, seriously, 'Bastian, put me down, I swear I'm going to kill you!" but laughing and squealing the whole time, and Chris watched, frowning.

When he got over to Joey, Joey was sighing and had turned his head down to look at his food.  Chris knew why.

Before, Joey was the only one Lance would let pick him up like that.

Joey wasn't one for petty jealousy, but Chris could tell it made him kind of sad.  "Hey," Chris said, plopping his plate down.  "I have an idea."

Joey looked at him.  "What?"

"I think we should drug him.  And then when he's sleeping, cut his hair.  Because it's too fucking long, dude."

Joey nodded.  "Sure," he said, and smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

Before, Joey was the only one who had been able to get Lance to laugh like that.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Okay," Chris said to JC, the first day of the tour.  "I'm not liking this new game."

JC looked confused.  "What game?"

"The 'let's ditch all my bandmates for a long haired punk' game.  Lance seems to be turning into quite the expert."  Chris kicked at the ground.

JC smirked.  "What, are you jealous?"

"No," Chris muttered.  "I just miss Lance, that's all.  Joey does too. He'd never say it, but I can tell."

JC patted him on the back.  "Don't worry," JC said, "I miss him too."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Sebastian's not Lance's type either," JC declared, letting himself into Chris' kitchen and sticking his head in the fridge.

"Oh?" Chris asked.

"Nope," JC said, grinning.  "I give it a month more, maybe."

Chris glanced in JC's direction.  "Why do you keep saying that?"

JC pulled out of the fridge with a can of beans.  "You don't refrigerate these things, dude."

Chris shrugged.  "Whatever."

JC placed the beans on the counter and started digging through the fridge again.  "I keep saying it because I think Lance has someone who's right for him, and none of these guys are it."

"So who is his type?"

JC smiled mysteriously, pulling out a bag of carrots.  "I'm not telling."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Three weeks into the tour and Chris decided he didn't like Sebastian.

Mostly because for the rare times he did see Lance, Sebastian was with him, whether he was actually there or if he was on the phone.

And if it wasn't Sebastian, it was work.

Either way, no one got to see Lance anymore, and no one liked it.

So Chris decided to do something about it.

"Hey, Sebastian," he said, when Lance was taking a call about work, "let the leash out a little bit once in a while, all right?"

"What?" Sebastian asked.

"I mean, I think that we've been friends with Lance a lot longer than you have, and maybe we'd like to spend some time with him too."

"You spend time with him," Sebastian said.

"Let me be blunt," Chris said. "Time without you attached to his hip."

Sebastian looked annoyed.  "Excuse me?"

"Hey, I'm not trying to be offensive," Chris said, because he wasn't.  Sebastian had a good six inches on him.  "I'm just saying.  I get the relationship thing.  But we like Lance too."

Sebastian pulled his hair behind his shoulders. "Too bad."

Chris felt himself getting pissed off.  "Um.  What did you just say?"

Sebastian grinned.  "I said..." he leaned forward.  "Too fucking bad."

"Hey, wait a minute--" Chris cut himself off when he saw Lance coming back into the room.

"Hey, guys," Lance said, looking back and forth between the two a little warily.  "What's goin' on?"

"Nothing," Chris said.  "Not a thing."  He glared at Sebastian and turned on his heel to walk away.

"Nothing," Chris heard Sebastian say.  "You get your work done?"

"Yeah," Lance said.

"Good," Sebastian said.  "Let's go do something."

Chris walked out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"He said that?"  JC raised an eyebrow and Joey leaned forward.

Chris nodded.  "I don't know what his problem is, man, but he better make an attitude adjustment."

Joey grinned.  "You could punch him like you did Jack.  That got rid of him pretty quick."

Chris shrugged.  "I dunno, man, you've seen him. He's huge.  Maybe you should do that."

"All right," Joey said, "you can distract him by pissing him off, you're good at that.  And then I'll smack him from behind.  Yes?"

"Works for me," Chris said.

"Woah, hey," JC said.  "I don't like him either, but somehow it seems wrong to be plotting the ambush of Lance's boyfriend."

Hey," Chris said, "all's fair in love and friend-stealing."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chris wasn't sure where the love part had come from.

But somehow, it seemed to fit.

He wondered.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chris and Lance were just different enough to get along.  Where Chris was impulsive, Lance calculated. Where Chris exploded when angry, Lance calmly plotted his revenge.  Chris was high-strung, Lance laid back.  Chris was happy enough with himself where he could take any crack someone threw at him and fire back an insult just as fast, where Lance, having his confidence but still insecure and unsure -- sometimes let it hurt, even if it wasn't meant to.

But they were alike.  They were both good at math -- despite the hatred Chris had for it -- and once in a while, sat around doing business quietly.  They could both shoot out sarcastic barbs like nobody's business.

And, of course, there was the gay thing.

Chris sighed, alternately staring at Lance and glaring at Sebastian.  Once in a while, Lance would look up while he was glaring at Sebastian and get a confused look on his face, so Chris would have to smile at him to reassure him that things were okay.

As much as he hated Sebastian, he was beginning to love Lance more.

And that, he thought, resuming his glaring again, was a fucking scary thought.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chris didn't talk to Lance for the last week of the tour.  He couldn't bring himself to.

And he couldn't figure out when casual hatred of Lance's boyfriends had started being about Lance himself.

He still glared at Sebastian every chance he got, though.

It was becoming something of a sport.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ten minutes later, he hung up and got his car keys.

Oh yeah. He was kicking Sebastian's ass if it killed him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Once, before the group, Chris had a boyfriend that tried to take over his life.

Fortunately for him, though, he'd seen it before with his mom -- which was unfortunate, of course -- and knew what to look for, and kicked the guy out before he got too deeply rooted.

Lance hadn't seen it coming, and Chris felt like he himself should have.  Lance didn't really know what to look for with this kind of guy.  The guy was really nice the first few weeks, but slowly and surely...he sighed.

He was kicking himself for not seeing it in the first place. He felt like he failed Lance, and he didn't like that feeling at all.

This was as good a time as any to redeem himself, he figured, walking up the path and knocking on the door.

Lance answered.  Chris sighed inwardly.  "Hey, man, what's up?"

"Not much," Lance said, looking a little wary.  "Um. What are you doing here?"

"Thought I'd drop by for some chit chat," Chris said brightly.  He hoped his voice was hiding the regret he was feeling for not talking to Lance for so long.  "Chit?"

"Chat," Lance sighed.  "Chit chat.  You can go now."

Chris stuck his foot in the doorway.  "No, that's okay. I'd like to hang out for a bit."

"No," Lance said, glancing behind him.  "You should really go."

His eyes were pleading but Chris had to force himself to ignore them.  "No," Chris said, "I was an ass the last few days of the tour.  I wanted to say sorry.  So, I brought food."  He held up a greasy McDonald's bag with a grin.  "I come in peace?"

Lance sighed.  "You should go."

"Nuh uh, man," Chris said, "I spent money on this.  And if I have to eat the whole thing I'll get fatter, and then *NSYNC will lose its sexiest member to obesity, and no one will like us anymore, and it will be all your fault."

Lance rolled his eyes.  "Okay, a, eating a lot one time won't make you fat. B, you're not fat, so stop, c, you underestimate people, and d, there is no way in hell you're *NSYNC sexiest member."

Chris shrugged.  "Close enough.  Move so I can get in.  If you try to lock me out, I have a key."

Lance sighed.  "You could've called, at least."

"I did call," Chris said.  "I talked to that asshole."

Lance's eyes widened.  "You talked to Sebastian?"

Chris couldn't help but notice that Lance didn't deny the asshole part.  "Yeah.  He said not to come over, and to stop calling, so I thought, you know, naturally, that meant 'come! and bring food!' so here I am."

"You shouldn't have done that."

"Nonsense," Chris said.  "Where is he?"

"In there," Lance said.  "You should probably not--"

"Thanks," Chris said, pushing past him.  He handed him the bag.  "Take care of this for me.  It cost eight bucks.  Fuckin' McDonald's stealin' my money."

Lance rolled his eyes.  "You really shouldn't--"

"Lance, when have I ever listened to you?" Lance sighed, and Chris grinned, leaving him in the foyer.  "Hey, Sebastian," he called out.  "Hey, punk who needs a haircut?"  He wandered around until he found him, in Lance's den.  "Hey, asshole," he said.  "Sup."

Sebastian looked up.  "Were you talking to me?"

Chris looked around.  "I don't see any other assholes, do you?"

"I thought I said not to come over."

"That's funny," Chris said, "I seem to remember this being Lance's house."

Sebastian smirked.  "I live here too."

"Yeah," Chris said, "about that.  I think you should leave."

"You don't have that kind of authority," Sebastian said.

"No, believe me, I do," Chris said.  "As Lance's friend, I declare this relationship unhealthy."

"Nice try," Sebastian said, "but I don't think so.  What are you going to do, anyway, try to kick me out yourself, you little munchkin?  Lance can make his own decisions.  Go back to the Yellow Brick Road."

Chris smirked.  "That was a nice dish," he said.  "Very nice.  I'll have to tell the other guys that one.  Got any more?"

Sebastian smiled thinly.  "I've got a million of 'em," he said.  "But I'll save them for a rainy day.  What did you expect to accomplish by coming here, anyway?"

Chris shrugged.  "Easy," he said.  "I thought I'd see my buddy Lance, get in a few words with you."

"You've had your few words," Sebastian said.  "You can go now."

Chris stayed put.  "I'd rather not," he said. "I'm not done yet."

Sebastian shrugged.  "Too bad," he said, "I am."  He stood up.

"Uh oh," Chris said, "what are you going to do, hit me?"

"Thinkin' about it," Sebastian said.  "I'm afraid of killing you, though."

"You wouldn't kill me," Chris said.  "I've been in a hell of a lot more fights than you, and I ain't lost one yet."

Sebastian smiled, and Chris narrowed his eyes.  "You would have, wouldn't you?" Sebastian asked.  "I mean, it's only natural, when you grow up in a trash bin."

"Fuck you," Chris practically snarled. 

"No, really," Sebastian continued, "I can't help but feel nothing but pity for you, reading the stories about living in a trailer, with only dirty laundry to keep you warm."

Chris' eyes were wild.  "Keep your fucking mouth shut."  Stay calm...don't let him get to you, he told himself.  It wasn't working.

"Oh," Sebastian said, "did that hit a nerve?"

"Guys." Lance's voice was nervous in the doorway. 

Chris glanced at him.  He was holding a cell phone. Chris turned back to Sebastian.  "Don't take fucking cheap shots," he said.  "Fucker." His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.

Sebastian, too, ignored Lance.  "I can't help it if you're sensitive," he said.

"You're a fucking asshole," Chris said.

"Guys..." Lance's voice was slightly louder this time.  "Come on."

"No, Lance," Chris said, glancing at him again.  "This shit is getting settled right now."  He was practically twitching with energy.

"How do you think that's gonna happen?" Sebastian asked.  "You can't win in a fight against me.  I'm not leaving." Sebastian looked at Lance.  "Didn't you know?" he asked.  "Lance is a fantastic lay."  Chris made a noise, low in his throat, and Sebastian smirked.  "Speaking of which, Kirkpatrick," he said, "how's your mom?"

Chris snarled and lunged for his throat.  He could barely hear Lance's protest before he was on Sebastian, all arms and hands and punches.  He knew he didn't have the size advantage, but he was pissed off.  Before long, they were rolling on the ground, kicking at each other and banging into the furniture.

Minutes, hours, days later -- time wasn't an issue -- he was underneath Sebastian when he suddenly disappeared and Chris felt himself being pulled up.

Joey (so that's what the phone was for, Chris realized) had Sebastian's arms pinned behind his back, and Chris glanced to see that JC and Lance had one of each of his arms.  He looked at Sebastian again and was pleased to see one eye already swelling shut and a bruise on the left side of his jaw.  He had a bloody nose, and some of the blood had gotten into his hair.  Chris grinned maniacally.

He himself had a bloody nose too, he could feel it, and he didn't even know what else had been hit, because he wasn't feeling any pain.   He twitched, trying to get out of the grip.

"Nuh uh," JC said.  "No more fighting.  Are you crazy?"

"I don't know," Chris said, "I just might be."  He twitched again, straining on the hold.  "Come on."

"No," JC said.  "Stop."

Chris felt himself still, but only out of respect for JC.  JC was nice, he thought.  Didn't believe in fighting.  He felt bad that JC had to see the fight.  His head was kind of cloudy.

JC broke into his haze.  "Hey," he said, "if I let go of you, you promise not to hit Lance and go after Sebastian again?"

Chris grinned at Lance, then JC.  "I wouldn't hit Lance," he said, still grinning crazily.  He could taste blood in his mouth. 

JC made a face.  "Go clean Chris up," he said to Lance.  "We'll get rid of him." He jerked his head towards Sebastian and let go of Chris. 

Sebastian laughed loudly. "Not likely," he said.

Chris pulled on Lance's arms, but Lance jerked on them to still him.  "Chris, stop," he said.

Chris sighed.  "Fine," he pouted.  He felt himself being led out of the room.

"Joe and I called Justin, he should be here in couple minutes," he heard JC call after them, and Lance's affirmative grunt.

"Jesus, Chris," Lance said, pushing him up onto the counter of the bathroom.  "What the hell is your problem?"

"I was defending your honor," Chris said lazily, grinning again.

Lance made a face.  "Ugh, don't smile.  That's disgusting, you have blood all in your mouth."

Chris grinned again and spit into the sink.  "Better?"

Lance made another face.  "You're so gross.  And you weren't defending my honor, you were being barbaric."

"I was defending my mom, then," Chris said.  "Nobody talks about my family like that.  And..." he trailed off.

"And what?"

"And you're, you know." Chris paused, his vision becoming cloudy again.  "You're my brother. Or something.  Or not really my brother, you know, because I don't have brothers that I want to kiss."

Lance made a surprised noise, and Chris promptly passed out.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When he came too, he was on Lance's couch with Justin's bright smile above his head.  "Good morning, sunshine," Justin said.

Chris grunted, shutting his eyes again.  "...the hell are you doing here?" he mumbled.  His head was throbbing.

"Got a call from JC," he said.  "He said that Lance said you and Sebastian were about to get into it.  Seems I missed it, though."

Chris grunted again.

"So what happened?" Justin asked.  "You kick his ass?"

"'Course," Chris said.  For the first time, he noticed ice on his chest and behind his head.  "How many injuries?"

"Bloody nose, you got cut on your mouth.  There's a bruise under your eye, and some on your stomach.  The worst one is the one on the back of you head, probably from when you hit the ground."

"That's nothing," Chris said.  "Should've seen him."  He grinned, but it was followed quickly by a sigh.  "He was makin' fun of how I grew up, J," he said.  Justin frowned.  "And I was okay, you know, it's nothing I've never heard before.  Then he was saying stuff about Lance.  But then he made a crack about my mother, and you know, I just kind of snapped."

Justin nodded.  "Man, it's okay.  No one liked him anyway.  Can't believe you did that, dude.  Did you have a death wish?  He must have like, three feet on you."

Chris threw a pillow at him.  "Shut up, you dick."

Justin grinned.  "Seriously, though, you missed it.  Sebastian was giving Joey a hard time so Lance slugged him in the stomach."

Chris gaped.  "Seriously?"

"Yeah, dude.  Sucker punched.  It was fuckin' hilarious, dude."

"Man," Chris said, "I miss all the good shit."

"Hey, man," Justin said with a wink, "you snooze, you lose."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"So," Chris said, later, still on Lance's couch, but this time using Lance's leg as a pillow.  "Heard you socked the punk in the stomach."

Lance shrugged.  "Maybe," he said, smiling sheepishly.  "He was being an ass.  Spouting more shit about you, and."  He stopped.  "Hey, Chris."

Chris looked up.  "Hmm?"

Lance idly touched the bruise under Chris' eye.  "Wanna know why I broke up with Jack and Jurian?"

"Sure," Chris said.

"Jurian got on my nerves."  Chris nodded, of course.  "And, he cheated on me with some Biology major."

Chris' eyes widened.  "Seriously?"  Lance shrugged.  "Dude," Chris said, "that's fucked up.  I'm sure they deserve each other."

Lance smiled slightly.  "I broke up with Jack because he kept talking about how much of an asshole you were, and I got sick of it."

"Wow, um." Chris said.  "You did that because he...me?"

Lance shrugged.  "Yeah," he said, cheeks flushing slightly. "But, um. In the bathroom.  What you said."

"Uh oh," Chris said.  "What did I say?"

Lance looked down with a blush.  "Um. You don't remember?"

"Not really," Chris said apologetically.  Suddenly, it came rushing back.  "Oh, wait. Um."  He paused.  "Oh.  Right before I, yeah."

"So," Lance said.  "You were.  Serious?"

Chris shrugged.  "I guess so, yeah." 

Lance smiled.  "Because, you know.  I think I might like that."

"Good," Chris said.  "Because I think so too."  He lifted his head up, but Lance pushed it back down.

"No," Lance said.  "You stay there.  I'll..." his words were cut off when he leaned down and pressed his lips to Chris'.

Chris wasn't sure how long the kiss lasted, but it was interrupted by catcalls.  He sighed, and Lance lifted his head.

"Nice," Justin said.

"It's about time," Joey said.

JC was grinning.  "Hey, Chris," he said with a wink, "told you. You're his type."

Chris rolled his eyes.  "You guys suck."

"Hey," Justin said, "shut up, man.  That deserves an ass whoopin'."

Chris held up his hands.  "I'm an invalid," he said.  "You can't hurt me."

"Hm," Justin said.  "So, since you two are boyfriends or whatever, I suppose Lance is the next best thing."

Lance looked up in surprise.  "What? I don't think so."

"I do," Joey said cheerfully, picking him up.  He wrestled Lance to the ground (of course, Chris noted with a wry smile, being sure to make sure Lance wouldn't hit his head upon impact with the floor, a courtesy Sebastian had conveniently forgotten), the other two jumping in once Joey and Lance were down.

Chris watched the scuffle on the ground, kind of wishing he could join in, but at the same time not at all jealous that Lance was being tickled in his place.

Kind of an unfair trade, he thought, looking at the front door, as if Sebastian was still there.  He got beat up by an asshole that was half a foot taller than he was, and Lance got tickled by three of his best friends.

He frowned; suddenly thinking of all Lance had put himself through to find a guy that wouldn't take advantage of him.  There was Jurian, who deserved to not only have his voice box ripped out but to be kicked to the moon for cheating on Lance.  And there was Jack, who didn't like Chris, and who in their right mind didn't like Chris, anyway? 

Chris didn't even want to think about Sebastian.

He sighed, glancing at the guys fighting on the ground again, sitting up.  He pondered for a few minutes; thinking about how long it had really taken for Lance to figure out that Chris was indeed perfect.

Too long, he decided with a self-assured shrug.  He grinned.  "I'm such a dork," he muttered to himself.

He was broken out of his thoughts when somehow during the melee, Lance ended up in Chris' lap.  He squirmed around so he was facing Chris, and kissed him quickly.  "Hi," he said.

Chris looked at Lance, the other three guys on the floor and the thoughts in his head suddenly seeming nonexistent.  "Hi," he said, and smiled.

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