And They Call It Puppy Love
By Lois

The morning that Justin turned into a dog, he woke up in a hotel bed that seemed more expansive than usual. For a second Justin thought he might not even be in bed anymore, that he might have fallen out of it.

He rolled over and the blanket tangled up around his middle. He was still in bed. It just seemed really huge to him because he didn't know he was a dog yet.

He couldn't sit up, for some reason, so he flipped over onto his stomach and pushed himself up. He yawned, so wide he thought he heard his jaw pop, and licked his lips. He felt hot and messy like he needed a shower or hadn't shaved in weeks. The blankets were too heavy so he reached up to push them away.

When he noticed his hand looked like a paw and the surprised noise that came out of his mouth sounded a lot like a bark, Justin figured it out.

"Fuck!" He struggled out of bed, jumping to the floor and stumbling when he hit the ground. He had four feet and no hands, and he was tiny. The bed towered over him. He looked under it and realized he could walk to the other side without ducking.

"Goddammit," he said aloud, surprised that his voice sounded relatively normal, if a little more high-pitched. He sounded a little like Chris. He tried yelling. "Joey!" It seemed loud in the quiet room. "Joey! Joe-y!"

It wasn't long before the door connecting their bedrooms swung open and a rumpled, sleepy-looking Joey staggered inside, clad in boxers with the sheet still twisted around his ankle. "Justin?" he called, looking around the room with squinting eyes. "Justin, you here?"

"Joey," he barked. "I'm over here. By the bed."

"Justin," said Joey, coming toward the bed with footsteps that seemed loud and lumbering. "Dude, you better not be fucking with me. You fucking woke me UP, man, and I- hey."

Justin looked up to see Joey staring down at him with a soft expression of surprise.

"Hey, little guy," he said, in a little voice. "How'd you get in here?" He reached down and picked him up, and Justin felt like he was soaring. One of Joey's big hands engulfed him, and when the other one came up to pet him on the back it was like being closed up in a warm pocket. It wasn't bad but it was a little scary.

"Joey," he said, and the surprise on Joey's face changed to shock, and Justin was falling. He hit the floor with a thud and a yelp. "Shit!"

"What the fuck?" Joey stared at him. "What. The fuck. Is this a joke?"

Justin rolled over and sat up, wishing he could rub the bump on his head. Instead he shook it, and that seemed to make it a little better. He glared up at Joey. "Fucker," he said. "You dropped me!"

"No fucking way." Joey bent to pick him up again but Justin wasn't going to take any chances.

"Oh no, you don't," he said, darting out of the way. "I'm fine where I am."

Joey blinked. "Justin?" he asked, in a shaky voice. "Oh my- is that you?"

"Yep," he snorted. "Don't ask, because I have NO fucking idea what the hell is going on. I'm thinking it's a bad dream or something. Or someone slipped me some acid, and I'm going to wake up any minute in the bathtub with all my clothes on."

Joey reached for him again, this time picking the brown, curly-haired little dog up by the scruff of his neck. He held him up to eye-level, staring into his eyes. Justin growled, but it didn't sound very menacing, so all he could do was stare right back.

After a moment, Joey smiled.

"It IS you," he said, dropping him into his palm and studying him with an amused expression. "Jesus Christ, Justin... What the hell?"

Justin sighed. "I told you not to ask me," he said. "I don't know. I was a boy yesterday and now I'm a... what am I?"

"A dog."

"I KNOW that," Justin said, exasperated. "But what KIND?"

"Um." Joey looked uneasy. "I don't know. Um, you're a little, uh. Little brown thing?" He shrugged. "You look kind of like a poodle, or one of those Yorkies."

"Oh, hell," Justin whined. "I'm a fucking ankle-biter."

"You got the same eyes, though," Joey said, softly. "They're blue, and they're just like the ones you had before, so." He smiled. "That's how I knew it was you."

Justin snorted. "Okay, so. I'm a stupid little poodle-thing." Justin nipped Joey's thumb. "I bet that didn't even hurt."

He looked so forlorn that Joey switched him to his other hand and shook his thumb out, wincing. "It stung," he said. "Kind of like, you know. A snake bite would feel."

"Really?" Justin thumped his tail twice against Joey's wrist. "Hey, cool."

Joey set him down on the bed. "I think we should call the guys," he said, picking up the phone. "For a band meeting."

"Good idea," said Justin, bending in half to nibble an itch on his back that for the first time ever, he could finally reach.

Maybe being a dog, he thought, wasn't such a terrible thing.

Being a dog sucked, Justin decided. The other three had been in the room for over an hour, and they kept breaking out into fits of uncontrollable giggling. Chris was the worst.

"You're a DUST bunny!" he hooted, poking at Justin and jerking away when he tried to bite him. "Dude, you're not a dog, you're a rat with a clown-wig!"

"I hate you," said Justin, squirming around in Joey's hand. "This isn't FUNNY, Kirkpatrick. I'm a fucking DOG."

"Do we know how this happened?" asked Lance, stroking his chin and eyeing Justin warily. Joey shook his head. "Hm. Probably just one of those things, I guess."

"What the hell?" Justin snarled. "One of those things. What, people turn into dogs every day in Mississippi?"

Lance just shrugged. "You got any ideas?" he asked. "Like, anyone who'd want to piss you off so much that they, like, turned you into a dog overnight?"

"Um." Justin thought. "Well, okay. Last night at the club, there were these two girls who kind of looked, I don't know. Witchy."

"Goths?" asked JC. "Dude, did you piss off Goth-chicks?"

Justin snorted. "They were freaky, man! Scared me. They wanted my autograph or something, but I just. You know. I kind of ditched them."

"Great," Lance groaned. "You should know better than to annoy Goths."

"Why?" asked Joey.

"'Cause, man, they're all, like, Buffy fans." JC shook his head. "He's lucky they didn't turn him into, like, a flea. Or belly button lint, or something."

"Hey, Justin?" asked Chris.

"What?"

"Are you housebroken?" He collapsed into giggles again, and Justin snapped at him. Chris just shook him off and howled. "Get real, dude. You're about as menacing as a fucking hamster. Do it again, that was so fucking CUTE."

Justin frowned, jumped into Joey's outstretched palm and looked up at him. "Can I give him rabies?" he asked.

"No," said Joey. "Look, guys, this is fucked up. Justin's a DOG. That's just, like, all kinds of weird. I don't really care how it happened-"

"I do!" yelped Justin, but Joey just pinched his muzzle shut between his thumb and forefinger and went on talking.

"-but I would like to figure out what to do about it, how to change him back, and what we're gonna tell Johnny."

"Mmph!" Justin shook his head free. "I wanna know who did this! If I find out, I'll... I'll..."

"You'll WHAT?" said Chris, with a smirk. "I've got shoes bigger than you. What'll you do, yell really loud at their toes?"

"That is IT!" Justin launched himself out of Joey's hand and landed on Chris, snapping and biting at him until Chris picked him up, like a baseball, and almost threw him across the room until Joey stopped him.

"Give him back, Chris," he said, holding out his hand. Chris smiled at Justin for a moment, then dropped him back into Joey's palm. Justin growled.

"You wait," he said. "I'll get you-"

"And my little dog, too?" said Chris, and made him leave. They could still hear him laughing in the hallway.

In the end, they decided to tell Johnny that there was a family emergency and Justin had gone back to Memphis for an indefinite amount of time. It didn't go over too well, but there was no way they could make them go on with the tour without Justin. It bought them time.

"Maybe you'll just change back," Lance said to Justin on the bus back to Orlando. "You know, wake up and be a boy, again?"

Justin sighed into the pillow he was laying on. "Maybe," he replied, sullenly. "Or maybe I'll never change back. I'll be this fucked up dog-boy thing forever. And I'm not even a COOL dog." Justin snorted. "I'm a fucking gerbil."

"Would you stop with that?" said Joey. He was sitting beside them, absently stroking Justin behind the ears. It was something he'd always done before, but to Justin it felt better now that Joey's fingers were a lot bigger. "You're just a nice little dog, okay?"

"Why couldn't I have been a Rottweiler, or something like that?" Justin rolled over, and Joey started scratching his belly. "Chris wouldn't be such a dickhead to a big Doberman."

Lance admired him, for a moment. "Do you know what kind of dog you are?" he asked. Justin shook his head.

"No clue," he replied. He looked at his legs, turned his head to glance at the curly brown hair all over his body. "Joey said I kind of look like a poodle."

"Yeah," Lance nodded. "But you have floppy ears, so I think you might have something else. Like a cocker spaniel. What do they call those? Cockapoos."

"I am -so- not comfortable with that," said Justin, flatly. "That sounds, like, something gross."

"The weird thing," JC said, leaning over to study Justin, carefully. "Is that you still have your own eyes."

Justin sighed. "So I'm some kind of freak mutt dog."

"You're a cute dog," Joey said, patting him on the head. Justin noticed that Joey was far more affectionate than usual, petting him and stroking his fur. He remembered him being like that with Busta whenever Chris brought him on tour, and he was kind of like that with the other humans on the bus. Justin knew he was just being Joey, but he was being more Joey than usual. It was, he thought, kind of nice to be touched all the time, like that.

He was getting a little drowsy with Joey's big fingers picking through his frantic hair when Lance suddenly asked, "What are we going to do with him?"

It hadn't occurred to them that someone was going to have to take care of Justin, now. They looked at each other, blankly, for a moment.

"What about his mom?" asked JC. Joey shook his head.

"She'd have a coronary." He shrugged. "I think it's gonna have to be one of us."

They were silent again, looking at one another, which made Justin irritated. He flipped over with an annoyed grunt.

"Don't all y'all fight over me, or anything," he grumbled into Joey's leg. Joey wrapped a hand around his middle and squeezed a little, and he kind of felt better. "I'll go with anybody," he said, after a moment.

"We could draw straws," suggested JC, and Lance got up to find some. He came back with coffee-stirrers that he'd snipped into different lengths with scissors, and once Chris was located they held a ceremonial straw drawing. Joey even provided a drum roll.

"Who gets him?" asked JC, holding up his medium-sized straw to the light.

"The shortest one," said Chris, smiling because his straw was the longest.

Lance groaned, and Justin had a new home.

Lance's apartment wasn't far from Universal Studios, in a gated community with a lake in the back and a big lush courtyard inhabited by squirrels and lizards. Inside, it was sparse and comfortable, and once Chris had said it looked like Martha Stewart had exploded in it. Books heaped everywhere, wooden furniture and hardwood floors that Justin's claws clicked on when he scurried across them.

"How do you want to do this?" Lance asked, dropping their luggage in the foyer and flipping on the light. "I mean, like. Um, do you want to sleep on the couch, or. Um." He waved his hand toward the bedroom. "You could, you know. Stay in there with me."

"Whichever, it's fine," said Justin, sniffing at the carpet. He smelled something a little funky, but he didn't know what it was. It made his fur stand on end, however. "Lance?"

"What?"

"Where's your ferret?"

Lance's eyes widened, and he slapped his forehead. "Oh, shit," he said. "I forgot about Dirk."

At that moment a long, dusty-colored weasel-looking animal strolled into the living room. It paused in the middle of the floor, having spotted Justin. It did not look pleased to see him.

"Holy shit," Justin said, just as Dirk launched itself at him in an explosion of weird whining noises, and hissing. Justin darted into the kitchen and cowered under the kitchen table, waiting until he heard the bedroom door slam and Lance calling his name.

"Justin?" he poked his head into the kitchen. "It's all right, he's in my room. Come out."

He crept back out into the living room. "Jesus, Lance," he said, voice unsteady. "That fucking thing was, like, three times as big as me!" He sat down and shivered, and for a second he wished Joey was there, with his big safe hands. Lance wouldn't even pet him, let alone pick him up. "He almost killed me."

Lance sank into the couch and rubbed his temples. "Usually he's not that bad, um. He just. Hates dogs?"

Justin rolled his eyes. "Great," he said. "Just great." He glared at Lance, thumping his tail against the floor. "You'll have to, like. Put him in a cage, or something, I guess?"

"I guess, um." Lance's gaze fluttered toward a seemingly unused plastic cage in the corner of the den. "He doesn't like it in there, that much. He's used to, you know. Being out."

"Well," Justin snorted. "He's got to just deal with it. He's a ferret, Lance. It's not like you have to put, you know, your sister in a cage."

Lance frowned at that. "We'll see what he thinks," he said. "If he freaks out, then we'll have to think of something else."

Dirk did freak out, making horrible noises and actually biting Lance's hand when he tried to force him into the cage. Justin hid in the bathroom during the whole ordeal, and when Lance called him out he expected to see Dirk safely locked away, leaving him with the run of the house.

Instead he found Lance sitting in an armchair, holding a bloody towel to his thumb and sulking. "He's pissed," Lance said. "He's in the bedroom again, probably shitting in my closet. He does that when he's ticked off."

"Maybe you should get rid of him," Justin stated, licking at a twitchy spot on his paw. Lance stared at him, incredulously.

"He's my PET," he snapped. "I'm not just going to, like, give him away or something."

"Then what are you going to do?" Justin hopped up on the couch, turning around three times before lying down. "I mean, if you want to try the cage again, maybe you could, you know. Knock him out? Maybe drug him. Or I could do something- Lance?"

Justin paused, because Lance was dialing the phone.

"Who are you calling?"

"JC."

"Oh," Justin nodded. "For backup?"

Lance just smirked, without mirth. "You could say that."

When JC arrived with the passenger seat of his truck covered towels Justin understood.

JC had drawn the second-shortest straw.

Justin felt like he was in a big igloo when he walked into the immaculate white house, JC flitting nervously behind him.

"Would you calm down?" Justin said, trotting into the living room and sniffing the air. He didn't smell anything but furniture polish and some kind of air freshener, and that let him relax, a little. "I'm not going to break anything."

"It's not that," JC said. "Um. Make yourself at home?"

"Cool," said Justin, and he jumped up onto the couch. Whenever he came over to JC's, to watch movies or write songs, he usually sprawled across the couch with a glass of wine and whatever cookies he could find in the pantry. JC had never minded it.

Now, though, JC seemed to mind. He pinned Justin with a frantic look, and wrung his hands together so tightly that Justin thought he might wrench them right off his arms.

"What?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

"Um," said JC. "Could you. Let me get, like, a towel. Or something... to put under you..."

"What?" Justin asked, but JC was already gone. Justin sighed, and scratched behind his ear with one of his back legs. He was working on the other ear when JC came back and gasped. "What?"

"You're, um." JC batted the towel against his leg. "You don't have, like. You know. Fleas, or anything. Do you?"

"Don't think so," sighed Justin. "I just felt like scratching."

JC frowned. "Maybe we should, like. Take you to a groomer. Get you a haircut and a bath?" He tried to smile. "Make you feel better?"

Justin glared at him. "Look, man. I'm not some mangy stray dog from the pound, okay? I'm your best FRIEND!"

"I know, I know," said JC, exhaling in exasperation. "Okay, it's kind of late. Why don't we just, like. Talk in the morning."

"Okay."

"You fine sleeping out here?"

"Yup," said Justin, curling up into a ball on the couch. It was surprisingly soft, for being made of white leather. "I'll be fine."

He was fine, until some time in the middle of the night when he woke up having to pee, desperately. He jumped off the couch and started toward the bathroom, realizing halfway there that it wasn't going to do him any good.

"Shit," he muttered to himself. "Gotta wake up JC."

He navigated the stairs one-by-one, being too small to just run up them like he usually did. It took five minutes just to haul his tiny body up the first step, though they got progressively easier as he went along. Finally, he reached the second floor and raced down the hall to JC's room, nudging the door open with his nose.

JC's bed was tall, and after a few attempts at jumping Justin gave up trying to get on it. He tugged at the blanket with his mouth, but that didn't seem to rouse the snoring body above him. So he did the only thing he could do. He started barking. It sounded weird to his ears because it was still his voice, only sharper.

"Wha? What!" JC sat straight up. "Justin?"

"Down here!" he shouted, and JC's head appeared over the side of the bed. "Dude, you gotta lemme outside."

"Why?" JC blinked.

Justin groaned. "I have to GO, man."

"What? Oh." JC rubbed his eyes. "Um, you mean. Out in the yard?"

"Where ELSE am I going to go?" Justin demanded. He hopped around, from one leg to the other. "Dude, come on. I really have to go."

JC stared at him. "Um. Is it, like. Just peeing? Or do you..."

"Joshua!" Justin shouted. "Oh my GOD, you're not serious." He didn't say anything. "I'm a DOG, C. I can't HELP it."

"I just don't, you know. Dude, it's my YARD, and-"

"It's your grass or the carpet, my friend," said Justin, gaze unwavering. JC swore and got out of bed quickly, narrowly missing Justin's head with his foot. He took the steps two by two, not realizing that Justin lagged far behind, having to hop down them one at a time. He already had the back door open when Justin reached the kitchen.

Once outside, Justin tried not to think about what he was doing in the bushes of his best friend's back yard. It was humiliating and brought back dark memories of being a very small boy and peeing in the neighbor's pool. Only this, Justin decided, wrinkling his nose, was decidedly worse.

When he finished he ran back to the house and found JC leaning against the doorframe, staring at his beautiful yard with a miserable expression.

"Sorry," Justin said, avoiding his eyes.

"It's fine," replied JC, in a sad voice that meant it was anything but, and Justin wasn't even surprised when Chris came to pick him up the next morning.

"You're kidding, right?"

Justin stared at the bowl in front of him, overflowing with little brown pellets. Next to him, Busta and Korea were snuffling at their own bowls, wolfing down their dinner without protest. Chris stood above them, bag in hand, shaking his head at Justin.

"I don't know, man," he said. "What the hell do you eat, anyway?"

Justin snorted. "I haven't eaten anything since Lance gave me half his sandwich yesterday," he said. "I think I still eat people-food."

"Fine," said Chris. "I'm getting pizza so I'll get you a little one, how's that?"

"Sounds good," said Justin, and he stepped back so that Busta could start in on his dish, as well. "Dude, are they pugs or little vacuums with legs?"

"They're fine," snapped Chris, putting the dog food away in the fridge. "They just like to eat."

"Like dog, like owner?" Justin ventured, snickering. Chris glared at him.

"Don't diss my babies," scolded Chris. "They never did nothing to you."

"What about the time Busta shit in my-"

Chris smirked. "That was pretty funny." He reached down and petted Busta, scratching him behind the ears. "Wasn't it, huh? That was funny, what you did to Uncle Justin? He deserved it, huh boy? Yes he did!" Chris ran his hands over the dog's face, letting him lick at his fingers.

"Oh, God." Justin rolled his eyes. "I don't think I can stand this." He wandered away, into the living room, and hopped up onto a recliner so he could have a look around.

Chris' house was chaotic at best. His dogs' toys were as much a part of the decor as the gold records on the walls and the furniture. The couch was covered in pug-fur, and framed photos of the animals at various ages took up every flat surface in the room. Justin sighed. Chris loved his puppies as if they were human friends, but Justin wasn't sure that applied to him, at all.

That night, after Papa John's had delivered and Justin's little belly was full of cheese and pepperoni, he curled up for a nap on the recliner, only to be awakened by Busta growling. Chris smiled from where he lay on the sofa.

"That's his chair," he explained. "Better move."

Justin obliged, because Busta was actually bigger than him, and he didn't feel like arguing. He jumped to the floor and sat down there, in front of the TV. They watched South Park and The Daily Show, until Justin heard snoring. He turned and his heart caught in his throat at the sight of Chris, sound asleep with Korea on his belly. He was softly stroking her ears, and she almost looked like she was smiling.

Justin lay down on the floor and sighed. It was a long time before he fell asleep.

Joey wasn't sure why Chris dropped Justin off so early in the morning. "Didn't you just get him yesterday," he asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eye with one hand as Chris dropped Justin into the other. "From, like, JC?"

He just shrugged, and Justin didn't say anything at all. "Trust me," said Chris. "He'd be better off here than at my house." He started back down the front steps toward his car.

"Wait a second," Joey called after him. "What's so wrong with your house?"

"Ask Justin," Chris shouted back as he got into his car. He drove away, leaving Joey standing on his porch in his bathrobe with a tiny, shivering poodle in his hand.

Breakfast was a big bowl of Cheerios without milk that Justin ate gratefully. He drank water that Joey put in a big cappuccino mug for him. Justin didn't feel at all like a pet. Joey just adapted to him, and he liked that.

"Need to go out?" Joey asked, putting the dishes in the sink.

"Probably would be a good idea," Justin mumbled.

They went into the backyard, and Justin slunk apologetically into the bushes. When he returned, Joey didn't even seem to care about what he'd done. He was looking at the sky.

"Look," he said, pointing at a cloud. "A sailboat."

When Justin didn't laugh Joey knelt down beside him. "What's going on, boy?"

"Boy?" Justin looked at him. Joey smiled.

"I've always called you that," he said. "Nothing to do with the dog thing."

"Okay."

"What happened?"

"Nothing, forget it." Justin lay down in the grass and sniffed at a dandelion. "It's fine."

"Fine." Joey snorted. "As in 'Fucked-up, Irrational, Neurotic and Emotional'?"*

Justin shot him a pointed look. "Funny, Fatone."

"Come on, man." Joey stretched out beside him, turning his head so that he was almost nose to tiny, black nose with Justin. "You can tell me, and I promise I won't laugh."

Justin snuffled into the lawn. "Chris laughed."

"Chris laughs at, like, carpet fibers," Joey said. "Come on."

"Um." Justin sighed. "Okay, promise not to tell anyone else?"

"Promise."

"It was Busta," Justin whispered. "He, um. He thought I was a. You know."

"What?"

Justin flinched. "A girl-dog."

It took Joey a minute to understand. "Oh," he said, exhaling slowly. "Holy- He tried to...?"

"He tried," Justin said, with a shudder. "But I bit him, and crawled under the entertainment center."

Joey reached out and rubbed Justin's ears, a little. "I'm sorry," he said. He smiled. "You're here, now, and there's nothing here to, um. Violate you." Joey coughed, a little. "Though I'd watch out for the Beanie Babies."

"Hey!" Justin nipped at him, but he was giggling. "Not funny!"

"You know what this means?" Joey asked, rolling over onto his back and tucking his arms behind his head. Justin busied himself pawing at the dandelion before finally biting it.

"What?" he asked, mouth full of yellow fuzz. Joey looked at him and chuckled, and pulled the weed from his teeth.

"That Chris' dog is a gay homosexual," he replied, and Joey found out that one of the best sounds in the world is that of a small dog laughing.

A week passed and Justin was still a dog and he was still at Joey's. They had a routine down by then, where Justin slept on a big pillow at the foot of Joey's bed. Breakfast was toast or bits of sausage, and milk in a big coffee mug. They couldn't play basketball or Dreamcast anymore, but they did go for runs in the neighborhood, swims in the lake and Joey found a little ball that was small enough for Justin to be able to fetch in his mouth.

In public, Joey called Justin "Juppy," because it was easier and it wouldn't draw any suspicion. The media was already curious as to Justin's whereabouts, and Jive's refusal to comment was causing a minor stir. So they thought, when Joey started bringing Justin with him on errands around town, that maybe they should be better safe than sorry.

"Why JUPPY, though?" Justin demanded at the band meeting they held about it, glaring first at Chris and then at Lance, who'd suggested it. "It's so... pathetic."

"It's not," insisted Lance. "Look, it's Justin and 'puppy' together, right? Juppy."

"We could call him Toto," cracked Chris, ducking when JC tried to smack him on the back of the head.

"We'll still call you Justin," said Joey, kindly. "Just not in public, okay?"

Justin sulked. "I guess," he mumbled. "I mean, don't have a choice, huh?"

Joey stroked his ears. "'Fraid not, kiddo."

Chris snorted. "I still like Toto," he said, and Joey shot him a dirty look.

"I don't know, Chris," he said, grinning wickedly. "I think Busta would make a better friend of Dorothy, don't you?"

"Thanks, Joey," said Justin, when Chris stormed off cursing. Joey winked at him.

"Any time," he replied, and they went outside to play fetch.

Then JC showed up with something that looked a little like a bracelet. It had a bell on it, a few rhinestones, and a tag with Joey's phone number on it. It was baby blue.

"I am NOT wearing that," Justin said, but he didn't have much choice. JC put it on him, and Justin stopped speaking to him. He went home with Joey and immediately hid under the piano refusing to come out, even for dinner.

"I feel like such a tool," he mumbled when Joey pleaded for him to come get some bacon.

Joey left, after that, and then came back about an hour later. "I went to PetSmart," he said, kneeling by the piano and peeking at Justin through the shadows. "But they had just the sucky collars. Then I went to the mall, and I found this."

He dug into a bad and pulled out a black, snap-on thing, with spikes coming out of it.

"Sweet!" said Justin, and he let Joey take off the old on. "Where did you find it?"

"Claire's," he said, snapping the spiked collar on and sitting back to admire his work. "It's actually a bracelet for a girl, but you wouldn't know it. We just have to loop the ID tag on it, and you're set!"

Justin watched Joey throw the old collar into the trash, and they made popcorn to eat in front of the TV. That night, he sat in Joey's lap instead of next to him, and licked the butter off his hand, and his wrist, where there wasn't any butter at all. He tasted salty and kind of metallic, and it wasn't bad, so he did it again. He licked the butter off Joey's thumb, and Joey giggled.

"That tickles," he rumbled, threading his damp fingers through the mass of curls on Justin's head. "Cute."

For the first time, Justin didn't mind being called cute.

Those were the best times, at least for Justin. The nights when they sat on the couch, Justin's chin on Joey's leg, watching sitcoms and talk shows, and everything on Comedy Central. Joey would always have a hand on Justin's back, fingers playing with his fur, and Justin would slap his tail against the couch every so often, to let him know that he liked that.

He mostly liked to close his eyes and listen to Joey's steady breathing. His hearing was really good, a dog's hearing, and on quiet nights he could even hear Joey's heart beating without being anywhere near his chest. It vibrated his whole body, and Joey was warmer than he'd ever been before, which made Justin scoot that much closer, and Joey's hand press down just a little firmer.

"Bedtime," he whispered, and Justin grunted. He felt himself being lifted and heard Joey's breathing quicken as he climbed the stairs to his room. He was placed on his pillow, and Joey got into his bed.

They lay in the quiet darkness for a moment, then Justin heard Joey's voice.

"Hunh?"

"C'mere," Joey mumbled. "Justin? C'mere."

Without thinking, Justin left his pillow and hopped up onto the bed. He curled up beside Joey and rested his head against his belly. Joey's hand found his back, big and hot and comfortable.

"Good boy," he said, yawning, stroking Justin's fur until they both fell asleep.

A month passed and Justin began to forget about ever being a boy. It kind of felt like he'd always been small and four-legged, and Joey's best friend. NSync kept going in theory only, and in the meantime they all went out and got normal and liked it, a lot.

During the normal-period, Chris got a new girlfriend that everyone liked except for Justin. He didn't like her because she introduced Joey to her roommate, Rachel, and it started changing everything.

"Where are you going?" Justin asked, trotting into Joey's bedroom and catching him in front of his bureau, primping.

"Out with Rachel," he said. He turned around. "I look okay?"

Joey looked good. He had on a lot of dark blue. "I guess so," Justin sniffed. "Where y'all going?"

"I don't know," said Joey. He put on a bracelet and took it off again, and changed his earring to one that resembled a safety pin. "I thought we'd go Cairo. It's Sunday, so they'll play all that good '80s stuff."

"Sounds fun." Justin went under the bed. He found one of Joey's socks and an empty Coke can. Joey left without saying when he'd be back. Sighing, Justin nosed under the sock and curled up, but he didn't sleep.

When Joey came home smelling like cigarettes and flowery perfume Justin was still under the bed with the sock. He heard Joey settling overhead and thought he might get up there with him. He liked sleeping beside Joey on the bed, and since Joey had come back alone he thought maybe he'd like the company.

But then Joey started jacking off, rattling the bed and filling the room with quick, hot little breaths, and Justin didn't have fingers to put in his ears so he crawled out and ran down the hall to hide in the bathroom.

He slept on the bathmat, and Joey almost stepped on him a few minutes later when he came to get a towel.

Rachel came over the next night and she took up Justin's spot on the couch. She called him a "cute little puppy" and tried to pick him up, but he squirmed until she let him go and he ran into the kitchen. He couldn't tell Joey he hated her, because Joey had asked him not to talk while she was there.

They watched some movie together before going upstairs, and instinctively he followed them, taking his time on the steps because they kept stopping every other one to kiss and laugh.

"Look," she murmured, pointing over Joey's shoulder at Justin. "He's so cute. He thinks he's people."

He didn't know why, but Justin expected Joey to say something like, "he is people," but instead he just laughed and kissed her again. They went into the bedroom but before Justin could follow them inside, Joey shut the door. It snapped shut against Justin's nose.

For a moment, Justin didn't know what to do. He started to sit down, but then he heard a happy moan and giggling from underneath the door. Something about it made his fur bristle, and he jumped to his feet again. He started barking.

The laughing continued, so Justin just made his bark louder. He couldn't hear anything after that, not until the door swung open and Joey looked down at him. His shirt was gone and his hair disheveled.

"What?" he demanded. Justin almost replied but then Rachel appeared behind him in just her bra and panties. He howled, and she flinched, bringing her hands to her ears.

"Can't you shut him up?" she asked Joey.

"Just- Juppy!" Joey stomped a bare foot. "Knock it off!"

He barked louder. "Joey!" Rachel shouted. "Come on, it's fucking annoying."

Justin turned and stared at Joey. He kept barking, and he knew Joey understood him. Go on. Me or her, man. You could make me stop if you really wanted to. Make me stop, for her. Go on. Make me.

"Fuck." Joey raised his hand, flat and suddenly bigger than it'd ever been before, and Justin stopped barking. He whimpered and ducked, and fixed Joey with sad eyes. He didn't think his friend would hit him, but. There was a girl there who wanted him too.

Joey stared back at him for a moment before his hand came down, slowly against his side. He exhaled, and turned to Rachel. "Maybe," he said, hoarsely. "You'd better go home."

She stared at him. "You're fucking kidding me, right?" she asked, sharply. "You're sending me home 'cause you can't control your stupid dog?"

"Um." Joey swallowed. "Yeah."

"Fine," she said. "Okay. I'm going, Joe-"

"Rachel-"

"Whatever, you know?" She snorted at him. "You've got your stupid bitch of a dog, so. You'll be fine, okay?"

In a flash she was dressed, and Joey waited at the top of the stairs until the front door clicked shut and she was gone. He glanced over, and Justin had the good sense to look a little sheepish.

"Sorry," he said. "But, you know. I didn't like her much."

Joey said nothing. He went downstairs, and Justin scrambled after him.

"Hey!" he called out. "Joey, wait up. Wait!"

In the kitchen, Joey stopped and whirled around. "What was that?" he asked, stiffly. "I mean. The hell, Justin?"

Justin bent backwards to bite at an itch on his tail. "I didn't like her," he replied. "She smelled funny, and she had really mean eyes."

"Bullshit," Joey said. "She wasn't mean."

"She called me a bitch."

"You were acting like one."

Joey's voice had suddenly gotten low and a little dangerous, and it made Justin shiver a little. "I just. I didn't like her." He looked at a spot on the wall. "I'm sorry, Joey."

He didn't seem to hear him. "I think you need to go outside," Joey said, quietly.

"Say what?"

"You heard me," said Joey. "You. Just. Outside."

"Outside?"

Joey went to the back door and opened it. "Out."

"Wait, Joey, I don't get-"

"What is there to get?" Joey said, flatly. "You're, um. You're a bad dog, so." He looked at the floor. "You should just. Go outside."

Justin glared at him, hoping Joey would cave in and apologize, but he didn't. Justin sighed.

"Fine," he said, quietly, and he walked past Joey through the back door. He stood on the patio and didn't turn around until he heard the door click shut behind him. Then he whirled around and barked at it. "Fine! Whatever! Fuck you, Fatone!"

He went out into the yard and sat by the pool, staring into the water as the sun began to slowly sink behind the trees.

By nightfall the yard was full of noises. Crickets and night bugs, cicadas in the branches. The moon was only a sliver of light in an inky black sky that made Justin feel even smaller than he already felt. He cowered by the pool, still staring into the now-murky depths, hoping that the flickers he saw were just stars reflecting on the water, and not eyeballs watching him, hungrily.

He hated being outside alone. It was cold, he was little and he was scared. Justin could hear Joey moving around in the house. He watched TV, sang to himself in the kitchen, even vacuumed one of the bedrooms.

But now Joey was quiet, and the TV was only a faint sound coming from one of the open windows. Justin found himself inching closer to the house so that he could hear the sounds Joey made. Pretty soon he was sitting on the back step, listening with one ear cocked in the air. The house had gone quiet, which meant Joey was probably asleep, without him.

He didn't know what time the rain started, but he was well on his way to miserable when it did. He was cold and wet and sad, and he didn't know what else to do but lay down with his chin on his paws, close his eyes, and try to sleep.

He whimpered once, then again. He thought maybe that's how dogs cried, because it felt a lot like when he was a human and he'd start to cry without being able to stop.

He opened his eyes and felt warmth all over, like something big and soft had come down and wrapped itself around him. It was Joey's hands, picking him up off the back porch and carrying him into the house where hands were replaced with a big, clean towel.

Joey gently dried him off, whispering to him through the terry cloth. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," Justin replied, breathing in the smell of clean towels and wet dog and Joey's hands.

Justin went back to sleeping in Joey's bedroom that night, right next to Joey where he could hear his heart beating, loud even through the blankets.

"Weird," Joey said, his hand finding Justin's fur in the dark.

"What's weird," he yawned.

"You." Joey stroked his back with two fingers. "Being here, with me. I mean. You're this a dog and all, but. You're still Justin. I close my eyes and I hear your voice, and your hair still feels the same."

Justin was quiet for a long time. "You know what, though?"

"What?"

"I like it?"

Joey chuckled. "Me too."

"'Cause, you know. It's nice, because. Um. I don't know, it's you?"

He knew Joey was smiling.

"Yeah."

They were quiet for a long time, and Joey must have fallen asleep because his breathing was suddenly deeper, his chest rising and falling beneath Justin's body at a steady, slow pace.

Justin listened to the great big heart until he couldn't stay awake any longer, and he fell asleep thinking about being human again. He hadn't wanted to be for a while but he thought maybe he did now, with Joey's hand in his hair and his heart right where he could hear it.

It was a few days before Joey woke up with a naked boy instead of a poodle, and he wasn't even surprised. He kind of thought Lance was right when he said it was just one of those things.

"Hey!" he said, tugging at Justin's curls, waking him up. "You're back!"

"I'm back," Justin mumbled sleepily. He was hot and his back hurt from being pinched up against Joey all night. He rubbed his eyes and looked up at him. "Um. Hi, I'm naked, huh?"

Joey grinned and slid his hand down Justin's bare back. "You are," he said. "I guess we should have expected that, though."

"Yeah. I feel huge," said Justin, stretching out a little. "Like, wow. This is weird. I'm like a giant."

Joey nodded and Justin thought he might slide away, now that he wasn't a little harmless dog anymore. Like him Joey was naked and it was making things sticky. And maybe a little dangerous, Justin thought.

"I should. Um." Justin sat up when Joey didn't move. "I need to, you know. Go call some people, I guess."

"Okay," said Joey, and Justin got out of bed with the blanket wrapped around him like a toga, staggering a little because he couldn't remember how to walk on only two feet.

Joey watched him go, absently picking the dog-hair off his sheets.

Getting used to being human again made Justin tired. He had to walk upright again, big lumbering steps that seemed to take forever when compared to the quick little feet he'd had before. He didn't have much of an appetite, and liked just plain bacon and toast, and his Cheerios without milk now. He felt weird going into a men's room. Might need therapy for that one.

Some things didn't change, like watching movies with Joey in their hotel rooms after shows, now that NSync was going again. Justin would eat dry cereal right out of the box, and Joey would thumb through the free USA Today. They liked action flicks and musicals, though once in a while they'd get the free porn and make up their own dialogue when nothing else was on.

They sat at opposite ends of the couch, because Justin was kind of big now, and he didn't like it. He couldn't hear Joey's heart from that far away, and eventually he realized that it was the only thing he really missed about being a dog.

They made popcorn to celebrate the second-to-the-last night of the tour, and they borrowed JC's Blockbuster card so they could rent all the Brat Pack movies and watch them in alphabetical order.

During 'The Breakfast Club' Justin got up and sat down again a little closer to Joey. He did it again during 'Pretty In Pink' and 'Say Anything,' and by 'Sixteen Candles' he was practically in Joey's lap. All he wanted to do was put his head on Joey's leg, the way he'd done when he was much smaller. It was harder, though, because it was so different now.

"Hey," Joey said suddenly, and when Justin turned to look at him he saw him holding a kernel of popcorn in his fingers. "Want?"

Justin grinned, and nodded and opened his mouth. Joey popped it inside, his fingers brushing Justin's lips just a little, and without thinking Justin darted his tongue out and licked them. They were buttery-soft and salty, smaller than he remembered but somehow hotter.

When he realized what he'd done he realized Joey was staring at him, intent and unblinking, with the popcorn bag almost crushed in his other hand. Their eyes met and Joey smirked a little.

"You know," he said, in a low voice. "When you did that before it was cute, but now-"

Justin cut him off. "Sorry, I'm. Um." He scooted away. "I didn't know what I- Um, sorry Joey."

"Justin."

"What?"

When Justin looked up, Joey had another popcorn kernel between his thumb and forefinger. He held it out to Justin. "Go on," he whispered. "Justin-"

"Okay," he replied, softly, and he took the kernel and Joey's fingers between his lips. He let the popcorn fall and traced his tongue up to the knuckles. Joey's eyes stayed on Justin's mouth until he pulled away from his hand, licking the corner of his lips, slyly.

When he looked up, Justin closed the short distance between them and clumsily pressed his lips against Joey's. On instinct he opened his mouth and drew in a sharp breath when he felt Joey's tongue against his, thick and slick and licking at his teeth. He pushed Joey backwards until he was on his back, and Justin crawled over him.

"I wanted the short straw," Joey mumbled against his lips. "It was fucked up, that I had to wait so long to get you."

"You wanted me first?" Justin asked, grabbing at Joey's t-shirt and trying to push it off of him.

Joey arched against him and threaded his hands through Justin's hair. It didn't remind him of a dog's fur at all.

"I wanted you always," he said, smiling up into Justin's mouth.

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