The day that Lance returned from space was a crazed affair. 

It was wonderful, of course, but crazed, and they all cried a little from the relief of it.  The expected droves of fans and press had been present; making the initial reunion a dizzying blur of flashes and light, and even the private party that evening had been crammed with as many family, colleagues and hangers-on that the compound could hold.  Lance's mother had hardly left his side all night and Joey found himself relegated to the corner with a beer and the others, grudgingly resigned to the fact that this was not the intimate reunion they'd hoped for. 

Because of the length of time that he'd been waiting for Lance's return--nine months, two weeks and four days, to be exact--it should've been easy to wait a few more hours to finally get a good look at his friend, but that wasn't the case.  Instead, every passing minute seemed stifling, made more excruciating by Justin and Chris's increasing frustration. 

"What the fuck," Justin whined, sounding more like the boy he used to be and less like the tall, solid young man he'd become.  "He doesn't even know half these people." 

  "I don't even like half these people," Chris growled, tipping up his bottle of beer until it was empty. He licked the bitter moisture from his lips and glared in Lance's general direction.  "Are we kidnapping him, or what?" 

Joey shook his head, trying to catch a glimpse of Lance through the crowd that surrounded him.  "Not yet," he said, and waited until Justin and Chris were done bitching and moaning to add, "Soon, though."

JC remained silent, smiling down into his glass.  Soon. 

When it was nearly eleven, Joey pulled out of a conversation with three fawning blonde girls and scanned the crowd for Lance.  Apparently the rest of the guys had been just waiting for a signal because they were immediately at his side, vibrating with energy.

Chris always dealt with impatience by drinking too much, and threw a heavy arm around Joey.  "Let's go!" he said with drunken authority and JC shivered, loving the anticipation, loving his friends. 

Quickly, they approached Lance and hurried him outside into Justin's car.  Justin drove and Joey rode shotgun, turned halfway around in his seat to finally get a good look at their newly-returned friend. 

"Thanks, guys," Lance said, grinning wearily.  "That wasn't exactly the 'small gathering' that they'd talked to me about."  

Joey searched his face and was relieved to find that for the most part, Lance had remained unchanged.  A little tired, but Joey was used to seeing dark circles under all their eyes when they were on tour.  He nodded.  "They were Chris's friends," he explained with a wink, and wasn't disappointed with Chris's, "Fuck, no!" and the subsequent animated, lengthy rebuttal to this remark. 

JC listened to the tirade with amusement and made sure that Lance was okay after one of Chris's flailing arms caught him in the head. 

"Nice to see that things haven't changed," Lance mumbled, rubbing the sore spot on the side of his head.  Chris grabbed him and smacked a loud, dramatic kiss on the site of the injury. 

"Some things have changed," he replied enigmatically in Lance's ear.  JC heard the comment and bit tersely at his nails, staring out the window.  Subtlety had never been Chris's strong point, but it was futile to try and stop him.  They weren't supposed to be talking about this.  Not yet. 

Before long they were pulling into Lance's driveway and unloading his things from the trunk. 

"You all staying here tonight?" Lance asked hopefully, wandering around the house and turning on every single lamp and overhead light. 

"Yep."  Joey watched Chris dive onto the big couch and point the remote at the TV.  "Try to stop us."  He was pretty sure it was relief that made Lance slump against him bonelessly, and felt a bit of relief of his own that Lance didn't mind them descending on his home like this his first night back. 

"I hope you didn't get too used to the quiet up there," he said, watching Justin attempt to wrestle JC for the enormous leather chair.  JC, who wasn't good at wrestling and never responded the way that people wanted him to, was clinging to the chair with straining arms and legs, mewling for Chris to help him. 

"I never did.  I hated it," Lance admitted.  He'd had plenty of time in those bottomless silences to regret all the times he'd yelled at them to just "leave me the fuck alone for five minutes ,I'm on the phone!," 

When he came back downstairs, things had settled down with Justin and JC having decided to share the chair.  Halfway reclined, their feet tangled together on the footrest, they seemed content and comfortable so Lance threw a blanket over them as he passed by.  The second blanket went over Chris, who was fighting a losing battle with the alcohol and fatigue. 

"Wanna watch our reunion on the news?" Joey asked when Lance approached the loveseat where he'd scooted over to make more room.  He wiggled the remote suggestively and Lance groaned, rubbing his face tiredly.  His own weariness precluded his desire for conversation, and he settled for tipping his head back onto the cushions and watching his friends through drooping eyelids. 

Joey saw him watch JC and Justin, and saw his startled expression when JC turned his head, letting his lips brush the corner of Justin's mouth.  Justin just smiled and closed his eyes.  It had been a long night.

"Joey," Lance whispered, poking his side.  "Are they…" 

Joey shook his head.  "No."  And it was true.  Things weren't exactly the same anymore, as Chris had hinted at in the car, nor were they entirely different, either.  He just didn't know how to explain to Lance what had happened during the ten days of his space voyage that the shuttle had been rendered incommunicado. 

Ten days of waiting, of fearing the worst, of Chris cursing and screaming about "fucking communist pieces of shit with their piece of shit equipment" and the press panting after their statements on their plans if, if, if, "If the problem is beyond repair." 

Joey had been the one with the most pressing responsibilities so they'd all flocked to New York to join him in a hotel suite.  For the next eight days, they'd kept the TV on nonstop, waiting for news that never seemed to come.  JC didn't sleep the entire time, and the rest of them only fitfully because they were all haunted by images of what might be happening up there.

Or what had already happened. 

There were no reassuring words to be spoken.  Justin, desperate for any means of reassurance, sought it physically, draping himself on the nearest available body and holding on like he'd never let go.  They all took turns petting his hair and rubbing his back and sometime after the fourth day when a bleary-eyed Justin had turned his face into Joey's chest, mouthing softly at his collarbone, it didn't seem at all a far reach to let it happen.  The lazy caresses of comfort built slowly into something that smoldered, the first bit of warmth that either of them had felt in days. 

While Justin whimpered and sucked at his neck, Joey looked across the room at JC, who was dry-eyed for the first time since twelve hours ago when the Russians had announced that maybe, just maybe this was more than a mere communications glitch.  The hope glittering in his eyes was staggering, so Joey motioned him over and felt for the first time what it was like to have JC pliant and responsive beneath him as he and Justin rained gentle kisses down on JC's face, neck and fingers. 

"You're all fucking insane," Chris had declared loudly, defiantly, from his chair by the window, but when he saw that things weren't going any further than touching and kissing, he crawled onto the edge of the bed.  It was the first time that Joey had ever seen Chris displaying an emotion that remotely resembled shyness. 

Joey found that Chris's goatee rubbing softly against his cheek created an emotion very much like happiness--though not close enough to drive away the choking feeling he had inside--and that JC's soft sounds of pleasure were a pleasure all of their own. 

He had felt the insistent press of Justin against him, and even though Joey was hard too, he knew that they wouldn't do anything about it.  No one had explicitly said so, but there remained an unspoken promise of things that wouldn't happen until Lance was there to share it with them. 

Now, he turned to Lance and hated himself for not having the words to describe what had transpired between them all in his absence. 

"It's nothing," he said instead.  "They're just tired.  We all are." 

"Okay," Lance said uneasily.  He was too exhausted to argue.

***

The next morning at breakfast, Lance broached the subject of their next album.  JC's immediate state of animation made them all laugh.  He hadn't been allowed to talk about their project in order to give Lance some down time before starting in on work, but since Lance had brought it up, he was happy to oblige. 

"We only need three more songs," he explained, dragging a chair right up next to Lance's.  We wrote all of them this time.  Me and Justin, and Chris wrote one himself.  He helped with the others, though, and Wade was helping for a while, until…"  he shrugged.  Wade had walked in on JC and Joey kissing, with Chris lying across Joey's lap, almost asleep.  He'd been uncomfortable with the new dynamic of the group to the point of withdrawing completely from the writing process.  To everyone's surprise, Justin hadn't even seemed to notice. 

"They're so good, Lance," JC continued.  "A few dance songs, and Justin wrote this real R&B kind of…"  He trailed off, searching for words.

"But why aren't you finished?  By the way y'all were talking while I was gone, I thought that you'd already have gotten the studio."   

At this, JC clapped his hands together happily.  "*Well*-" he said, taking a great breath as though to share a great secret.  "We're going to write the last three songs.  All of us, together.  We've rented a house, a cabin, in the woods and we're gonna all stay there for two weeks.  You'll learn the new music and we'll finish the album." 

Lance's eyes darted around to the other guys, checking their expressions. "Really? Wow, that sounds…ah, so *that's* why mom didn't make me come home right away."  

"Yup," Chris said proudly.  "We had to shamelessly beg and grovel for the pleasure of your company." 

"And because of Chris's groveling experience with women, it worked." 

Growling ferociously, Chris knocked into Justin and tackled him into the counter.  "Take it back!" he shouted, digging his fingers into Justin's ribs.  Justin, who claimed to hate tickling, shouted with laughter and doubled over. 

"Okay, damn! I take it back, you sensitive fuck!"

Lance ignored them, and finished eating his toast, smiling at JC who was still staring at him.  Strangely. 

***

"Who knows how to make a fire?" JC asked, eying the enormous stone fireplace.  He decided the moment he saw it that the atmosphere wouldn't be right until they had fire.

"What's to know?" Chris shrugged.  "Put some wood in there and set a match to it." 

"Lighter fluid," Joey said knowingly, "You pour it on the logs."  

Lance sighed, envisioning the lovely cabin engulfed in flames.  "I'll do it."  He'd seen some firewood stacked on the porch as they'd come in, and had to admit that the plush carpet in the main room was made to be lounged on in front of a fire. 

Chris followed him outside and held out a pair of worn suede gloves.  "Here," Chris offered, his breath frosting the night air.  Sniffing, he tipped his head up to the sky.  "You can see all the stars out here.  Bet it's nothing like really being up there, though, huh?" 

Lance's stomach lurched at the thought.  "Uh…"  He couldn't think of those stars without being reminded of how JC had cried when he'd finally been able to get to a phone, how he'd heard the huge, splitting sobs from over the phone and had stared at the receiver in his hand, helpless.  The pain from those sounds had settled in his gut and he carried it with him even now, on the dark porch with Chris.  The ugliness of it all had never gone away, and he didn't know how it ever could.  

He didn't answer, just hugged himself and stared up at the sky, couldn't stop staring.  He'd lost something up there, or maybe he'd brought something back with him.  Either way, he felt broken, full of sharp edges that he'd never known were there. 

Chris brought him back to the moment, his familiar voice brought low with concern.  "Were you scared?" 

No.  Because scared didn't describe the terror of being disconnected from humanity, with the blackness of space looming, threatening to swallow him alive.  He hadn't been scared.  There was no name for what he'd been. 

"I…"  Lance shook his head.  "Chris, it was…"  He couldn't say, didn't want to hurt them any more than they'd been hurt, but then he didn't have to because Chris was right there, holding him tightly until the only thing he could do was give into instinct and burrow his face into the denim of Chris's well-worn jacket.  He brought his arms up around Chris's waist, wanting and needing this anchor. 

"Hell?" Chris asked, and Lance nodded jerkily, unable to trust his own speaking voice. "It was for us, too.  We could hardly breathe."  The next quiet statement gusted warmly over Lance's cheek, "So we learned to breathe for each other."   

Lance didn't know what that meant, but he thought that it had something to do with the way that Chris's lips brushed his ear, lingering longer than was really necessary.   He also thought it might have something to do with the kiss he'd seen the night before. 

"Chris," he said again, intending to go with the inexorable feeling rising up in him and to ask for something, to beg if he needed.  But what he wanted was still a half-formed thought, merely an unidentifiable tug in his chest.  "I. I'm cold.  Let's get the firewood." 

***

The encounter left Chris unsettled and he sought a spot next to JC on the floor, which had become a mass of pillows and blankets.  Justin had declared the bedrooms too cold and no one bothered arguing.   JC was the perfect pet, Chris thought with a smirk.  All you had to do was run your fingers through his long, touchable curls and he'd melt with a sigh and stay by your side for as long as you wanted to pet him. 

Justin was the same way, but Chris preferred JC because JC was less likely to pinch your stomach hard, should your attention wander for a few minutes. 

Now, with JC stretched out across his lap, Chris felt himself beginning to relax.  Lance had built a hell of a fire and taken up residence on the sofa with Joey, who was describing the fish pond in his backyard that he'd installed himself.  It wasn't a lie, either.  For two weeks straight, he'd dug and sweated and worked, all for a tiny fish pond the size of a kiddie pool.   The lights had taken another two days. 

"There are people you *pay* to do that shit," Justin remarked. "They're called professionals."  He didn't see the point in doing it yourself when you could be waving around a bunch of cash and supervising someone else.  Lance, who had actually had an entire lake put in on his property so he could jet-ski, just nodded.   

Chris half-listened to their conversation while keeping the other half of his attention on JC, who stretched languidly in his arms.  The closeness did help, he'd learned that much in the past weeks, but he still felt strung too tightly. They were all on edge, still trying to come together after too long apart.   

"So then," Joey was saying, "I went to this greenhouse and picked out the flowers myself, because who wants to wait for seeds to actually grow?"  He was thrilled to have found someone willing to listen to his landscaping stories.  Lance seemed interested but Chris, who had already heard the escapades of Joey and his spade recited a dozen times, found it boring.  Especially when there were more interesting things going on, like JC suddenly licking at his mouth, begging to be kissed.  

Getting lost in the slide of JC's lips against his own had become one of his favorite things to do.  JC knew how to take things easy, how to create a humid warmth between two people that left them both weak and panting, unable to let go.  Now, with JC straddling his lap, Chris felt the nearly imperceptible loosening of the reins because the thing that had been holding them back was no longer an issue.  Lance was here, so Chris couldn't help but caress JC's back and then lower, slipping his hand under the waistband of his shorts.  

JC moaned, and Chris pulled back out of habit.  This was where it stopped, where they always stopped things. 

"I think those are poisonous," Lance was saying. "They're just the kind of thing that Brianna would want to…"  The only indication that Lance's eyes had finally flickered over to Chris and JC was the smallest catch in his voice before he continued, seemingly unruffled.  "…put in her mouth, because they have those red berries." 

This was a test, of that Lance felt certain and if he said something, they might stop.  It felt strange to admit that he didn't want it to stop, but there was just something so right about the way Chris's hands moved across JC's body. 

Everyone was looking to Joey, he noticed, waiting as though he held the answer to an important question so Lance did the same, turning a quizzical expression on his friend. 

Finally, Joey nodded thoughtfully. 

"You're right," he said, and flopped back on the sofa.  "Maybe I'll hire a gardener after all." 

***

JC found Lance out in the shed well past midnight, sitting crosslegged on the floor, his back against the rough log wall.  Smoking. 

"Lance," JC said, stunned.  "What are you doing?  Your voice, God, Justin would-"

"So don't tell him."  Lance exhaled the sentence in a puff of smoke and sighed.  "I don't do it often." 

"You started in Russia," JC said, disapproving, and crouched down next to Lance on the floor.  The cigarette looked foreign in his friend's hand, but he handled it with experience.  JC watched the tip flare red as Lance inhaled and then took it from him, taking a long drag. 

"Your voice," Lance mimicked.  The sarcasm came across oddly sexy, mingled with the burnt, raspy bass.  JC shrugged, giggled and coughed. 

"I don't do it often." 

"Lance chuckled a bit, a deep rumble of sound, and looked down at the dirt covered floor.  "When did you start?" he asked. 

"When I was about sixteen, I guess.  It was-"

"No."  Lance interrupted, and JC suddenly felt reason to doubt that this was a chance meeting.  "When did you start-"  He placed his hand on JC's thigh and let it slide up a few inches, just enough to make his point.  "-this?"  

"We didn't."  JC stubbed out the cigarette into the dirt, stalling.  "Not that, not yet.  Just… this, you know?"  He dragged a gentle thumb over Lance's bottom lip in explanation. 

Lance's tongue automatically came out to wet his lips and JC repeated the motion, tracing the curve of that full lower lip with a wet slide of his thumb.

JC loved this.  He loved kissing, could kiss any of them for hours if time and desire allowed for it.  He and Justin both shared this fondness for worshiping at the mouths of the others, while Joey was more of a toucher.  Joey preferred to watch their faces as his large hands moved across their bodies, exploring and kneading and turning them into a puddle of contentment.  

Chris was different.  Chris was always approached with caution because he hung back, willing to accept anyone's affection but rarely initiating it on his own.  On the other hand, because of his reservation, every touch from Chris brought a depth to the act.  Every touch meant something when it came from Chris and JC reveled in it. 

"Why not?"  Lance asked. 

"Why…huh?"  JC tried to remember what they'd been talking about.  "Oh, why we don't."  He shrugged and wiped at his nose. 

"Because, you looked like you wanted to.  Earlier, with Chris."  Lance thought about Chris's hand disappearing into the back of JC's pants.  He'd been thinking about that a lot. 

"No, yeah.  No.  Lance."  He wished that he'd discussed this earlier, with Joey.  None of them had talked about any of it, and he wasn't sure that he was even allowed to discuss it.   "The thing is," he said, and watched Lance light up another cigarette.   "When you were gone -I mean, when you were-"  He didn't want to remember, and shut his eyes against the memory.

"I know," Lance offered, but there was no way that he could truly know. 

JC breathed in the smoke-heavy oxygen.  The crowded shed was too cold to open a window and his fingers were already halfway numb, his nose running constantly. 

"We stayed in New York waiting to hear.  Then the tv came on and they said- the Russians said-"  His throat constricted, catching him by surprise.  He'd intended to tell Lance about how lost Justin had been but truthfully, it hadn't been Justin who had reacted most strongly to the news.  There was nothing JC wanted less than to relive those moments, even if only verbally.  "Um.  I don't want to…I'm going inside, okay?  They're probably already looking for you." 

"JC." 

"Lance," he said helplessly.  "Don't." 

Snorting derisively, Lance got to his feet but followed without a word.  

***

JC expected things to find things out of control in the cabin because unsupervised Chris plus Joey plus Justin usually equaled chaos.  Instead, they were all still lying around in front of the fire and carrying on an actual conversation. 

Lance took a spot next to Joey and refused to make eye contact with JC, which JC didn't understand.  It wasn't as though he'd intentionally denied Lance something; that was the last thing he'd wanted to do.  He turned to Chris unhappily with the sudden inclination to apologize but Chris just ruffled the curls at his nape like he understood.

Knowing Chris, he probably did.  JC had always wanted to be the steady, mature one and hated the fact that he wasn't the stable element in a crisis.  After they'd gotten the news in New York that Lance's communication problems might be permanent and linked to much bigger issues, JC had caved.   Tired of breaking down under the scrutinizing eyes of his friends, he'd finally locked himself in the bathroom, an emotional wreck. 

Chris had yelled and screamed at the door for an hour but that wasn't the way to reach JC and everyone knew it.  Two hours later Chris was slumped against the closed door, leaning his cheek on the cool, smooth surface. 

"JC," he'd pleaded.  "I have to say that I'm a little bit worried about what you're doing in there." 

No answer. 

"And you're really freaking out Justin."  Chris didn't usually play the Baby card, but he felt it necessary at this point.  The sound of JC's muffled crying escaped from under the door and Justin, pale-faced on the bed, covered his ears with his hands. 

Joey had soberly watched everything happen.  He was too easygoing to interfere when Chris was clearly doing his best.  There was no point in getting angry like Chris or breaking down like JC no matter how dead he felt inside.  Lance, he thought numbly. Where are you?

 He repeated the question out loud, but Justin couldn't hear.  

"I support your right to have a meltdown," Chris had announced loudly to the door, "but you've got to let me in." 

After a few more minutes, there was a shuffling sound and then a hoarse, "Leave the light off." 

"Fine.  Deal.  Now lemme in."  Chris rattled the knob impatiently.  When it finally turned, he slipped in and true to his word, shut the door again, joining JC in the darkness.

"JC?" He groped around a bit until he found JC huddled on the floor.  Pulling his friend into a tight embrace, he leaned against the bathtub.  "Hey.  Josh.  It's gonna be all right."  A trite and probably untrue cliché, but it was what his mother had always said to him when he'd needed hope. 

"We shouldn't have let him go," JC moaned.  His long fingers wrapped around Chris's arm and constricted painfully.  "We let him go." 

"No," Chris had argued. His voice echoed back in the small room. "That's not our place, not anymore."  For so long, they'd felt it their personal responsibility to protect the naive kid from Mississippi, but Lance wasn't a teenager anymore.  He'd made this decision as a man. 

"No one even tried to stop him!" 

"He wanted it more than anything, no one could have." Chris tried to remind him but JC had lost it at that point, shaking and crying messily into Chris's shirt like the worried, sleep-deprived friend that he was.  Later, Chris had led JC out of the bathroom into bed and they'd huddled together under the covers trying to sleep. 

"We should go and get him," JC whispered urgently, too sleepy to lift his head.  "We have to. I don't care about the money."  

Sighing, Chris ran his fingers across a finely sculpted cheekbone, wiping away the remaining moisture.  "Don't be crazy, C," he whispered back.  "You know that Joey's ass would never fit in one of those space suits." 

So, yes.  Chris was good in a crisis, and JC was not.  

***

Even though it was well past a decent hour for bed, no one wanted to sleep.  JC thought that he felt a creative vibe in the room and wanted someone to suggest writing something, but no one did and Lance was still snubbing him so he sat quietly instead, watching everyone clamor for Lance's attention.  After a while that got boring and he decided to go make the hot cocoa that everyone had been talking about but had been too lazy to actually get up and make. 

As soon as he left, Justin rolled over onto his side and blinked up at Lance.  

"So, what did you two fight about?" 

"We didn't fight," Lance coolly claimed.  The truth was, he wasn't at all certain why he'd been so harsh with JC.

"Bullshit."  Justin had never wasted words with Lance.  "So why's he been staring at you all night?" 

"Maybe he's just beside himself with joy that I'm back, Justin," Lance shot back dryly, and Justin sat up, pointing an accusing finger right in Lance's face. 

"That's right, he is.  He was a complete fucking wreck when you were lost, worse than I've ever seen him.  All he could do was talk about you coming home. Now you're home and you won't even say a word to him." 

"What is your problem with JC?" Joey asked.  His curiosity about the chill between them hadn't been enough to make him ask up until this point but it had been enough to keep the five of them from truly coming together and that was troubling. 

Lance bit at his lip thoughtfully, wishing that he were curled up next to Joey the way that Chris was.  Joey's hands carded through Chris's hair easily like an old lover.  It was the way that they'd all been touching one another but when he'd brought it up, JC had balked.  Fine.  Better to let the rest of them explain. 

"He wouldn't tell me what's going on with all of you," he said, motioning clumsily at Joey and Chris's entwined hands.  "I saw him kiss you, Justin, and then…all the other stuff.  I mean, we've always been physically close but things are different now.  You can't tell me they aren't.  I just wanted to know." 

He left out the part about how much it stung for them to have started this when he'd been away, of all times. 

"That's it?  That's your beef with C?"  Chris scoffed.  "JC!" he hollered.  Joey cringed and slapped his head. 

"My ear, you loud ass." 

JC appeared in the doorway, and Chris jerked his head toward Lance's miserably hunched form.  "Get over here and make nice with Bass." 

"Um."  JC bit his lip, hesitating at the edge of the great room.  He couldn't tell whether or not Lance was still mad at him, and as a rule, JC avoided people who were pissed at him.  He stood frozen, torn with indecision but then Joey surprised everyone by leaning over and taking Lance's mouth in a proprietary kiss, which decided the matter for JC. The slick slide of their lips together was too captivating to look away, so JC crawled over and knelt next to Chris.  Lance looked down at him through half-lidded eyes. 

"Sorry," JC said.  "I'm sorry," and lay his head in Lance's lap.  Chris always teased him about being like a cat but JC understood the compulsion to rub and nuzzle at someone until they gave him the attention he wanted.  With one hand, he lifted Lance's blue t-shirt to get his mouth on the firm, warm expanse of his belly.  He'd known it would be soft and smooth like this underneath Lance's clothes, and he hummed happily when Lance twitched and moaned. 

Joey still hadn't relinquished Lance's mouth but JC didn't mind waiting for his turn, especially with the way Lance shivered and growled under his touch. When he dragged his tongue across the soft down below Lance's belly button, barely dipping under the waistband, he heard a gasp and for the first time, felt the solid shape of Lance's penis against his face. 

Chris urged him away.  "Jesus, Jayce," he said, but there was only aroused approval in his eyes.  JC twisted around to kiss Chris, one hand still up Lance's shirt. 

"Been smoking," Chris mumbled against his mouth after tasting the stale chemicals on JC's tongue. 

"So's this one," Joey said with a smirk.  He patted the side of Lance's face.  "Smoking outside like teenagers, thought we wouldn't notice."  

Lance had the good grace to avert his eyes, embarrassed.  JC just shimmied closer to Chris and clung to him.  Everyone seemed so willing to take this easy but he was *dying* here.  After the touching and tasting and weeks of buildup, he needed more. 

"Chris," he begged softly, feeling a lot like Justin, who was known for working himself into a frenzy and having to be physically removed from the person he was trying to rub up against- usually Joey.  JC tended to stay away from Justin when he felt like that because he knew that together, the two of them would go too far.  Joey and Chris always knew when to stop things. 

Sometimes JC really hated Joey and Chris.

And loved Lance, who chuckled and said, in his deep Mississippi drawl that emerged when he was sleepy and content, "Jesus, Chris.  How can you say no to that?" 

Chris glared.  "We were waiting for you." 

"Yeah, that's what C told me.  But, um."  Lance stole a glance at Joey, whose hands were all over him, deeply massaging his thighs and generally driving him wild.  "I'm here now." 

Chris was suddenly especially aware of how they were all sitting huddled together close enough that he could feel the heat of Joey's hip against his own, the solid press of Lance's calf.  He wasn't certain what to do, but luckily it wasn't an issue anymore because at the present time, no one was paying attention to anything but what Joey was doing.

"Yeah," Justin breathed, his eyes glued to the spot where Joey's hand pulled at Lance's fly.  The button popped open, and Chris watched Lance's eyes widen almost as though he were surprised.  A movement caught Chris's eye, and he heard a soft inhalation from Lance as Justin's hand slid onto a solid thigh, rubbing suggestively. 

Joey and Justin shared a knowing grin before focusing their attention back on Lance.  Justin's hand held steady at the top of Lance's thigh while Joey unzipped him with sure hands.  Joey had probably more experience getting people out of their pants than anyone, Chris thought with the part of his brain that was still functioning.  The rest of his brain couldn't diverge from the sight of Joey's hand delving into the open pants to briefly palm the bulge in Lance's underwear. 

Lance's hips flexed and strained but Justin held him down with one steady hand until Joey nodded, and together they peeled the jeans down and over his hips.  He kicked them the rest of the way off, staring up at Joey with stunned, darkened eyes. 

His shirt and pants now gone, Lance lay there nearly naked, aroused but compliant and waiting expectantly.  Chris held his breath as Joey's dark head bent to kiss Lance some more, this time deeply, roughly, making Lance squirm and twist in search of friction.  JC, who was all too familiar with the strain of denied need, whimpered and crawled between Lance's legs and they all gasped a little as that final barrier was demolished with one lewd swipe of his tongue across the outline of Lance's cock. 

"Jesus, C," Chris murmured and it seemed that this was the only phrase he could manage tonight.  It was the most surreal thing he'd ever seen, Lance lain out like a glassy-eyed, overexcited, sacrificial virgin being ravished by the attention of Justin's hands and Joey's mouth and JC's…tongue. 

JC was a kisser, that Chris already knew, but apparently this talent extended to all things oral.  Even under Joey's mouth, Chris could hear the wild, muted sounds that Lance was making in response to JC's tongue drawing wet lines on the thin fabric that covered his cock. 

"Do it," Chris urged, shocked to hear that he'd been the one to break the relative silence.  It was even more shocking to him to see his own hand reaching out to the waistband of Lance's black briefs and lifting, pulling them over and off of Lance's smooth, firm hips.  JC took over and pulled them the rest of the way off, and then it was quiet. 

In the silence, Joey raised black, black eyes to survey the progress of his friends and Chris swallowed hard, struck by Joey's disoriented expression, his red, swollen lips and the dark patches he'd left scattered across Lance's throat. 

"Okay?" he asked hoarsely, directing this question at Chris. 

Nodding yes, Chris sent a shaking hand out to trace the marks that Joey had left on Lance's neck and then down further, down further still.  He could feel everyone's eyes on him as he took a moment to circle a flat, pink nipple until it gathered into a hard nub under his fingertips.  This is easy, he was thinking, just as Justin's hand covered his own and guided him down, over the quivering belly and right. down. there. 

Chris tensed, ready to screech NO, Justin you crackhead, but he hadn't expected the force of his own reaction when Justin's fingers prompted his to close over the damp, velvety texture of Lance's penis.  The thick column seemed to get even harder in his hand, and the deep, rumbling groan from Lance made Chris abandon any intentions of letting go. 

"I'm- Chris," Lance panted, and tried to laugh, but Joey's mouth was on his ear, making exciting wet sounds that stripped away at his control.  "Um.  It's been a while for me.  I'm not…"

Joey chuckled and bit lightly at a tender earlobe.  "Lance.  You trying to tell us that you didn't get any play the entire time you were in Russia?" 

"He's saying that he's about to come all over Chris's hand in about two seconds," Justin said, mesmerized by the rough, jerking slide of Chris's hand on Lance's dick.

This comment gave Chris a moment of pause wherein he wondered if he were really, truly ready for that to happen, but the words had the opposite effect on JC.  From his position between Lance's legs, JC wet his lips and bent his head to suckle eagerly at the head of Lance's cock.

 With every stroke, the edge of Chris's fist bumped JC's mouth and Lance thrashed wildly when Chris sped up, thinking that he had to be bruising JC's lips but really not caring about anything other than the way that Lance felt in his hand, swelling and pulsing, making JC buckle down and swallow frantically with his long eyelashes fluttering closed. 

As much as Chris wanted to fall backwards and give his own dick the same treatment, a rush of warm affection kept his hands on Lance, smoothing over the rapidly rising and falling chest.  He noticed that Joey was regarding Lance with the same brand of affection, ruffling through the blond hair lightly.  Chris suspected that Joey had wanted this more than anyone, and had a glimpse of a rarely seen tenderness when he saw Joey turn away to rub at his red, pleasure-soft eyes with the heel of his hand.  While the rest of them had been freaking out, Joey had quietly suffered.  And waited, for this. 

Lance must have sensed this as well, because he propped himself up on one elbow and melted into Joey.  His lips moved against Joey's ear, whispering something that Chris couldn't hear but Chris didn't mind because he had a feeling that it was intensely private.  It was enough to just be able to watch his two friends exchange an incongruously shy kiss before returning their attention to the rest of the group.

"Oh," Lance exclaimed, starting abruptly.  He'd always been extremely ticklish and JC's curls were brushing at the soft flesh of his side.  As soon as he'd let Lance's cock slide out of his mouth, JC had immediately pinned Justin to the floor with his legs on either side of Justin's, holding him steady. 

Lance watched them hump and grind against one another, secretly glad that he'd had the slow, easy hands of Joey and Chris to lead him over the edge and back.  Justin and JC didn't seem to mind, though, and, mouths fused together, seemed quite happy with their mutual race to the finish.  Justin's harsh moans and grunts made Lance wonder exactly how long they'd been holding off on this; wanting but waiting for Lance, like Chris had said earlier. 

Still…it was pretty hot, and obviously Joey thought so.  When Lance looked back to him, his jeans were undone and he was holding his stiff cock his hand not stroking yet, just holding.  Lance knew that Joey wouldn't ask.  Joey was ever a giver, giving his smile, his companionship and his protection, and it figured that he would be the same in bed. 

Chris, kneeling nearby, was watching Joey, too.  His fingers went tentatively to his own zipper. 

"You okay?" Lance asked quietly. Chris had never shown signs of capricious sexual preference in the past but Lance had always believed that his friend's barely contained energy would be lethal in a sexual context.  Lethal, and amazing. 

"Yeah," Chris croaked.  His hand fell away from his zipper, though, so Lance sat up and reached for him. 

"Let me," he asked, and ran a thumb over the smooth, cold metal of the button-fly.  From the corner of his eye, he saw Joey's hand begin to move slowly back and forth.  Joey liked this idea.  Lance blushed with that knowledge and continued, opening Chris's pants all the way.  Chris stared down at what Lance was doing the whole while, even when he reached in and pulled out the erection that had been uncomfortably confined for far too long. 

Chris hissed and steadied himself with hands on Lance's shoulders, continuing to keep his eyes averted. 

JC and Justin had reached fever pitch, and every once in a while Lance would catch a glimpse of long, naked limbs thrashing around in concurrence with the sweetly urgent sounds that his two friends were making.  They were nothing compared to what was displayed before him, though. 

Chris bit at his lip hard; white, sharp teeth visible against his bottom lip.  His hands tensed on Lance's shoulders.  He was trying to not thrust, Lance realized unhappily.  There was no reason for him to hold back, and Lance wanted nothing more than to see Chris let go and lose himself the way that Lance had been able to. 

"Hey," Lance whispered, leaning in to lick his darkly stubbled neck.  He paused his strokes on Chris's cock and ran his thumb across the head, then around the ridge.  "Look at Joe." 

Chris managed coherency long enough to take in Joey, who was reclined casually and jacking himself off, his face, body-language and mouth open in pleasure.  "Have you kissed him?" Lance asked, and nipped sharply at Chris's jaw.  Chris jumped, and nodded.  "Good.  I wanna see you kiss him, okay?" 

And he did, so much.  He wanted to see Joey give Chris the same kind of dangerous, exhilarating kisses that he'd given Lance, and to see Chris responding in kind. 

"'kay," Chris said, but first took Lance's mouth in a searing liplock, clever hands wandering down to explore his bare ass.  From behind him, Joey made a low sound of approval. 

When he was finished with Lance, Chris crawled over to Joey, who rose to his knees, took a second to make sure that Lance was watching, and then took Chris's face in his hands.  Lance had been right.  Together they were all probing tongues and urgency, fire and heat.  They didn't touch one another, though, not where they were both aching to be touched, and Lance realized that Joey had most likely never even touched another guy's dick.  And probably until Lance, neither had Chris. 

Justin's hands clutched at JC's hair as he thrust into the experienced mouth and Lance had to watch him for a moment because he was obviously coming, white-knuckled and red-faced, pushing and holding JC just how he wanted him, his head tossing back and forth on the carpet. 

When he managed to tear himself away from watching those two, Joey and Chris had gotten over their inhibitions and were rubbing up against one another with gusto, their hands everywhere, and Chris's increasingly urgent "Oh, oh, Joe, yeah, yeah."  Chris wouldn't shut up, it was like he thought he could talk himself to orgasm and when mingled with JC's impassioned, filthy pleas directed at Justin, Lance felt the blood roar in his ears.  The throb in his groin tripled, and his own bass groan was lost in the mix.  He leaned against the couch and tipped his head back on the cushions, closing his eyes.  All that existed was the pull and squeeze of his hand on his dick and the hoarse sounds that JC made as he drew closer to climax. 

Then, with an abrupt intake of breath, Chris went quiet which was in itself the most shockingly erotic thing that Lance had ever heard, and he didn't even have to open his eyes, he was just coming, coming in a liquid rush of pleasure, hardly able to breathe and so was JC, who cried out beautifully, muttering obscenities to Justin the whole while.  

Lance was pretty sure that Justin didn't mind.  

***

Joey woke up into darkness.  The logs were burned low into faintly glowing embers which had sent the room into a chill, so as quietly as possible, he got up and put new logs on the fire, lighting and prodding until the flames burned high.  The guys were dead asleep, sprawled out all over the floor on blankets and one another.  Chris snored, his mouth open.  From JC's pile of blankets a long, naked leg was visible. 

Only one was missing.

"This is supposed to be vacation," he remarked, sneaking up behind Lance in the kitchen and enjoying the way his broad shoulders tensed momentarily.  "The sun isn't even up yet." 

Lance turned around slowly, his exhaustion apparent in his posture.  "Just got thirsty.  Believe me, I'm sleeping until noon."  The mugs of cold cocoa on the counter that JC had abandoned earlier in the evening were disgusting with the dark congealed patches on top, made him want to puke. 

"Good."  Joey shifted and moved into Lance's space.  "C'mon, let's sleep," he said, tugging at his shoulder.  He didn't like the way that Lance looked now, so stricken and lost, hiding in the kitchen. 

"It's so dark," Lance admitted, scrubbing a hand through his disheveled hair.  He'd woken up more from suffocation than thirst, terrified of the disorienting darkness.

Joey nodded, understanding in his own way.  "It's okay," he said, and gently pushed Lance in the direction of the living room.  "I made a fire.  It'll last until the sun comes up."