It was JC’s secret. Something he did that no one, not management, not the other guys, not his parents knew about. His own little thing. It didn’t hurt anyone, and made JC feel special. Different. Pretty. If he had to, he’d probably trace the start of it back to the when the boys first started getting famous. Over and over and over they were asked the same question. And over and over and over he answered the same: Boxer briefs. One day, cleaning up after his folks and Heather had visited, he found a bag with panties that Heather had bought and forgot to pack. He looked at the lace and silk, his mind racing. What if they asked the question, and I was wearing these? JC had shaken his head. No. Not women’s undies. That would kill the teenies, to find out he wore string bikinis and high-thigh cut briefs. But what if they didn’t know…that you had them on, but didn’t say anything, just smiled… JC looked around him, making sure he was alone even though he knew he was. He slipped out of his jeans and briefs and picked up a pair of panties. They were pink and silky and had roses on the waistband… Since that day, JC would wear panties. Never on stage or at official events. Way too many clothing changes during a performance. And the fans and their cameras caught everything at events. But on the bus? Yes. At the studio? Of course. At home? Undoubtedly. JC didn’t question why he did it; he just did. The panties made him happy. Gave him an edge in the madness that is the Nsync life. Gave him something that was just his. Alone. It was JC’s secret. Only…someone else knew. *** Justin’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped in astonishment. He shook his head, then refocused his eyes. Yep, still there. He widened the opening of the curtain around his bunk to see better. JC was in the hall between the bunks, organizing his covers and pillows before going to bed. His arms were raised, letting the shirt he was wearing slid up, showing a patch of skin between the shirttail and his pajama pants. But it wasn’t the skin that Justin was staring at. It was the underwear that JC was wearing that caused his amazement. Underwear? No, not underwear. Panties. Red. Silk. Thong-style, with thin elastic sides that were riding up and were visible over the low-slung pajama pants. Justin watched as JC finished with his bunk and pulled at his slipping pajamas. After hitching up the thin cotton, his hands paused, then to Justin’s further amazement, JC’s fingers slipped under the red silk elastic, pulling a bit, then smoothing down, his movements gentle, almost…a caress. Justin closed his curtains as JC climbed into bed, his mind whirling…and his cock hard. He swallowed, fighting the feeling. He was sure his crush on JC was gone…sure he was straight…but now. JC in panties. JC in red silk panties. That last thought was burned into Justin’s brain. Saying a quick prayer of thanks for the bumpy road and whine of the engine, Justin flipped over, bit his pillow, and humped himself to a blinding release. Though spent and tired, Justin’s mind still raced with thoughts, one in particular: Where in the world did he get them? *** JC bought his panties on-line from Victoria’s Secret. There was always a VS catalog on the bus; Joey had a thing for Giselle Bunchen. So it was easy to flip through the catalog and see what he liked. Then, at night in hotels, he’d charge up his laptop and order what he’d liked, having them sent to the next hotel by FedEx overnight. His first purchase was a disaster. JC had no idea about panty sizes, and the tags in his old ones were faded. He figured that, since he was a man, he’d need the largest size. He confidently clicked on the XXL, and waited impatiently. Two days later, he spied a box on his bed after check in. Eager to try them on, he bolted his door shut and tore off his pants and briefs. He picked up a pair…light blue lace, thigh cut, and slipped them on… …only to have them slip right off. JC looked down dolefully at the pool of blue lace, realizing he’d bought them way too big. After that, he tried the large, and found that to be perfect. Most hotels, when seeing the return address of the packages, were discreet, placing the packages in his room or calling up after he’d checked in. Only once did the guys see. They’d been late arriving, all of them grumpy and tired and out of sorts, just wanting to crawl back into bed. The night clerk had called out to JC just as they were leaving, telling him to hold on, there’s a package for you…here. JC turned back to find the other boys staring at him, wondering about the packages. Chris spied the return address, raising a brow in question. JC mumbled something about perfume for his mom, and they all sighed. Mother’s Day was the next week. JC was a good son. Only Justin knew the truth. *** Over the next day, the box of panties was never far from Justin’s mind. He’d been keeping an eye on JC, trying to figure out when he wore girl’s underwear and when he wore guy’s underwear. Justin realized that JC acted the same, or at least, didn’t act differently with the panties. Didn’t act gay or flamey or anything that was stereotypically gay. So Justin really didn’t know when he wore them. Just that he did. And that he wanted to see them. The thought of the panties was consuming Justin. Made him crazy. Hot. Hard. If he finally saw them, it would go away, Justin figured. After all, they’re just underwear. He stood in the hallway, fiddling with the keycard to his own room, acting exasperated. The maid, as Justin had hoped, came to his rescue, buying his story of wrong key, the card must have lost the setting, yada, yada, yada, and slipped inside JC’s room. He leaned against the door, his heart racing. He hoped JC would forgive him, but frankly, he was so obsessed he just didn’t care. Spying JC’s suitcase on the stand under the window, Justin crossed the room and flipped it open. There. Pink and white and lying right on top. He removed the box and carried it to the bed. Justin found his hands shaking as he slipped off the top, sighing at the sight of the white tissue paper. He slowly unfolded, his breath hitching at the sight inside. A rainbow of colors lay before him. Pinks and blues and golds. Solids and prints and florals. Shimmering silks, shiny satins, delicate laces. Justin couldn’t resist. He picked up the box, tumbling the panties onto the bed in a shower of color and fabric. He dropped to his knees, hands buried in the panties, touching them, holding them, finally burying his face in them. Click Justin froze as he heard the door close. He turned slowly, his hand still full of silk and lace, his eyes huge pools of guilt. JC stood in astonishment, watching Justin as the panties fell from his fingers. “Justin?” he asked, his voice quiet. Justin rose from his knees, and the two boys approached each other slowly. “I…just wanted to see them.” They were inches apart. “Why?” JC asked. “Because.” Justin swallowed, his eyes held by JC’s. “Because, I didn’t think I’d ever see them on you.” JC smiled, taking Justin’s hand in his and holding it to JC’s hip. “All you had to do was ask,” JC said, leaning in and nipping gently at Justin’s mouth. At the same time, he slipped Justin’s hand inside the loose waistband of his jeans, placing his fingers under the elastic of the panties he was wearing. Justin shuddered at the feel of the silk and JC’s warm skin. He fused their mouths together, surging inside as his mind raced with thoughts and feelings and emotions. His crush on JC? It had never ended, Justin realized as they melted into each other. It had become something so much more. And all it took was a pair of panties to set it free.