Sharing Secrets

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Lance felt like he had pulled off some spy-thriller-worthy escape when he emerged from the gates of the perfume-soaked, smoke-filled club. Despite his get away, he still felt the eyes on him. Hooded, glittering eyes tinged with lust that measured his worth based on how he looked and what he promised with his own eyes. As much as he tried, he just couldn’t get used to the feel of those eyes on his body, slowly penetrating his clothes and trying to get to his skin. He had even started a few times, sure that he had actually felt rough, callused fingers on his neck and arm. Then he looked around and saw only Justin and Joey beside him on his left and right and their bodyguard at his back; no one had touched him. But he still felt that invisible imprint on his nape and knew he had to get away.


It only took a little lie -- that he wanted to speak to JC and Chris, who stood talking at the far end of the room to Lou and a couple of men in tailored suits -- for his bodyguard to let him go. Not that it surprised Lance, because the bodyguard, whose name he never found out, had orders from at least three people to stay with Justin no matter what. It didn’t bother Lance. He knew his place in the group.


It had taken him 10 minutes to find the door because the crowd was big. NSYNC was not the only group with a showcase that night; supposedly there were other big acts but he didn’t know who. Lou didn’t find it necessary to inform them about such ‘stuff that does not concern you’ because they were ‘just there to sing’ and convince people that they were ‘worth their time and money’.


Walking around to the side of the building, he took a deep breath of the cold biting air. Just like every night, he again wished he was back home enjoying warm Southern nights, watching the fireflies with his family on their backyard porch. He leaned against the wall and sighed. As he turned his head to the left, he saw the profile of a man a few feet away, hidden by the shadows of a big trash bin.


He almost went back to the party but stopped when he recognised the face and the blond hair in the light of a passing car. “Hey,” Lance called out, more out of discomfort than any need to make conversation. The blond jerked slightly in surprise but otherwise gave no sign of acknowledgement; only the hand moved, bringing the cigarette he held between his index and middle fingers to lips hidden from Lance's view by the hanging fringe.


“Um…cold night huh?” The minute Lance said it, it sounded lame to his ears and he wished he could take it back and just get out of there. An exasperated release of breath sounded. Lance saw Nick Carter turn to look at him and waited for him to say something. Nothing came. Lance continued, “Shouldn’t you be in there mixing around?


“Shouldn’t you?” came the snappy reply, his voice high and slightly skittery from the cold.


“I was in there…I just came out to…” He was cut short by a haughty snort.


“I really don’t care.”


The silence took over once again. Lance thought he should probably go back in, but then his mouth seemed to have a life of its own. Perhaps it had decided that an irritated Backstreet Boy was a lesser of two evils. Or maybe it was his little crush that was making his mouth move. “You know, you shouldn’t smoke. Lou would kill you.”


“Yeah, I’m shaking in my shoes.”


Lance found himself staring at Nick Carter's back and looked forward again. It was really getting quite cold. After a few more minutes, he decided that it was probably time to go back in even if he didn’t want to. As he pushed away from the wall, he glanced one last time at Nick and was surprised to see the younger boy looking at him from the corners of his eyes. Upon seeing that Lance had caught him looking, Nick turned away. Lance hesitated, then started to move back towards the door.


"Lou will be looking for us," Lance mumbled as he turned.


“You do everything Lou tells you?” Lance stopped and turned back. “You do don’t you? The good little southern boy routine is not a routine, is it? It’s you.”


The comment was not loud but the sneer was obvious.


For some reason that comment made Lance angry. Very angry. Irrationally angry. “You're no different. Don’t act like a tough guy just because you're smoking a..a fag!” Lance spat out, a part of his mind cringing at his vocabulary. What was he? British?!


Nick blinked at him. Then laughed. “Fag? What are you? British?!"


Lance just stared at the younger boy. He didn’t like it that this kid; this young punk was getting the better off him. He was older. He was smarter. Why couldn’t he respond with zingers? What was it about young blond arrogant 16 year olds that made him tongue-tied and stupid?


"This is stupid! I'm going in."


“Are you a virgin?”


The question came out of the blue and left Lance flabbergasted. “What…what?”


“Are…you…a…virgin?”


“You…”


“Ever kissed a girl?”


“Of course!”


“Ever kissed a guy?”


“What?”


“Want to?”


How did his voice get so low? So sulty? “Ok, you’re high or drunk or something. I’m going in.”


Just like that, the smile in Nick's eyes disappeared and he turned away from Lance.


“Back in there? With Lou and those old guys? Them watching you…do you like that?” The humour was gone just like that; replaced by…something chilly. Lance heard something in his voice that pinged in his own mind and his mouth formed the word before he knew it.


"No. I don't." His voice sounded haunted to his ears as well.


"Then why go back there?"


"Because we have to. Come on. They will..."


“I hate it,” Nick continued. "Their eyes on me, it's creepy. Freaks me out. But that's what we're here for, huh?"


Lance knew about the eyes. Had felt then himself. He wondered how it was possible for Nick to feel exactly what he felt.


"I hate it...that feeling…of being watched and touched," he shuddered and Lance knew it was not because of the cold. "I hate it."


Being watched. Being touched. Lance could still remember the touch on his nape. .


"AJ, Kevin and Howie don't get it. I think Brian used to feel it. He got that look, you know. Until he found Leigh. Now he just looks at me...like...like he is pities me. I hate that."


Nick's eyes seemed unfocused.


"I hate Lou. I hate that he makes us do this. I hate this. I hate going home feeling...I don't know... dirty…abused,” he said with a fit of brittle laughter. It was one of the saddest sounds that Lance has heard and it was a familiar sadness.


Nick looked at Lance, as if suddenly realising where he was and who he was talking to, and blushed.


"Um...I better go. Kevin will kick my ass if he saw me smoking out here," he mumbled, throwing down the cigarette stub.


“I think I am the only one who feels it in my group,” Lance whispered, causing Nick to remain where he was. “Justin doesn't feel it for some reason despite the fact that they're always looking at him. More than me. Funnily enough, I used to be a little jealous about that...but now...now...I'm glad."


Nick seemed to think about that for a while.
“Maybe he does. Feel it. Maybe he’s pretending.”


“Maybe. So…how do you..." Lance moved a little closer. "...deal?”


Nick shrugged. "Run. Stupid maybe but I don’t care. Until they drag me back in there, I’m not going.”


“We have to go in there some time.”


“Yeah.”


They shared the silence. Standing right beside each other, close enough to feel the heat from the other, they shared their common burden. Lance had never felt closer to anyone else. Suddenly he smelt smoke-laden air wrap itself around him and knew what was coming. It didn’t repel him. Instead, he stood where he was.


It started off as a brush as he felt the warm heat against his face before he felt the cool lips on his. Lance couldn’t close his eyes and saw that neither did Nick. Lance saw uncertain want in the blue eyes. His own chest echoed his quick heartbeat to his ears. Then Nick’s mouth began to press in and at that moment they both closed their eyes. It was so different from kissing a girl. Maybe it was the height difference. Maybe it was the lean, hard body and the missing softness. But it did not feel wrong as all of Lance’s senses narrowed down to just the smell of Nick and nicotine and the feel of a warm body and cool chapped lips.


“Damn it, Nick!”


The harsh voice caused them to jump away from each other. But not before their eyes met. Lance tore his eyes away from Nick to see Kevin coming towards them, his eyes shadowed by the dark.


“Who the fuck is he? Why are you so stupid?!” Kevin hissed, his eyes glittering in the dark.


“He’s not going to tell. He’s…”


“I can see who he is,” Kevin spat, glaring at Lance. Lance stood there, not knowing what to do. “He should know fucking better as well. Come on! We’re next so try to act like a professional even if aren’t.” Lance watched Kevin tug at Nick’s arm and saw the blond wince in pain but say nothing.


"I warned you not to pull this shit here! When the hell are you going to grow up…”


Kevin’s voice faded into the night as he dragged Nick away. Lance saw Nick look back and his words echoed in his mind.


"Until they drag me back in there, I’m not going."


The last thing Lance saw of Nick was his smile. The smile was humourless but secretive.

~Fin~