"Lancers! What brings you to the mysterious lands of the second floor?" Joe chirped and laughed. Wade just stared at Lance, who was (not so subtly) ignoring him. "My main man J here. Certainly not you, Fatone," Lance monotoned and rolled his eyes. "Aww. Sounds like my little buddy's nursing a hangover. Again. Aww. Bwess your widdle heart. You need some bounce, baby?" Joe taunted and chuckled. "Suck some monkey toes, man," Lance growled. "Now's not an ideal time to be bugging on Timberflake, Bass. He's a very important, very busy man," Wade offered helpfully, tiny sharp stones lacing his tone. "He keeps telling us so." "Timberflake," Joe giggled next to him and pretended to write something down on his notepad. "Good one, Robson." Lance half-turned his head, slowly, and responded over his shoulder with a fast, teasing wink at Wade. "Never were too quick on taking a blatant hint, were you, Wade? Sorry for ya." Justin ground his back teeth together and sighed. Maybe Lance had successfully rescued him from the madness. Casually, through his shirt, he smoothed his fingertips over the swollen spot on his collarbone. "I'll catch you two jerkoffs later. Okay? Thanks for all the entertainment. Not." "Yeah, whatever. See ya later, man," Joe said, still grinning, nothing much in the world ever getting him down. He slapped at Wade's arm. "C'mon, dude. The tummy's a-rumbling. Let's go grab some lunch and leave the office weenies to themselves. You know they've got lots of weenie things to discuss." He snickered. Wade took one more moment to glower at Justin and then at Lance before turning to go. "Yeah, man. I heard that." "Christ," Lance hissed and brushed manicured fingers through his hair after they'd left. "Robson is SUCH a penis wrinkle. Did you give the loser your autograph since he's so hell-bent on obsessing over you like a crazy stalker fan?" Justin shuddered and frowned. "Look, Lance. Please. Don't ever talk to me about Wade and penis wrinkles again. That's just too disgusting for me to survive." "J, what I really want to talk to you about right now has nothing to do with Wade. Or wrinkles. But a hell of a lot to do with penises. Now how about it, man?" Lance raised his coiffed eyebrows. "How worn out from last night are you?" Justin smiled, just as coy. "Not too. I feel great." "You look great." "Jesus. Don't even start, Lance. That's what those two freaks Joe and Wade were saying, man. No, they said I look 'different.' Like they could fucking tell." Justin rolled his eyes. "You never know with those writer types, J. They can get all deep and perceptive, you know." Lance studied him across the desk, tilting his head from side to side, narrowing his eyes. "Yep. They could be right too. There's that 'I just got my eyeballs nailed out' look all over you, man. Or hold on……….Maybe it's the 'I can't fucking wait to be with him - or, better yet, to be with him naked and sweaty in bed - again tonight' look all over you. And it do look fine, J." Justin blushed. "Hmm. I won't deny that." "Because you CAN'T deny it, sexy. You're broadcasting it at, like, 50,000 kilowatts, man." "I am not." "You are too. Stop smirking." "Whatever. Where are we going for lunch, man? You thought about it? I'm starving." Lance paused and considered the question. "I was thinking La Luna. They've got that awesome marina sauce there that reminds me of you……….spicy, hot, fast, and easy." "Fuck you, Lance." "Only if you share those details, baby. You promised." Justin laid down the expensive pen he'd been making notes with. Then he pulled his chair closer to his desk and shot Lance a cunning smile. "One, Lance. I promised one juicy detail." "Then tell me already," Lance said breathily. "Put your tongue back in your mouth, perv. Anxious much?" "C'mon, Justin, damnit." Justin giggled. "Okay. During, um, you know -" "Sex. Screwing. Humping." "Would you be quiet?" Justin huffed. "It's MY story." "Then tell it." "Well, while we were going at it, I, um, acquired myself a - how would you say? - battle wound. A red badge of……….um……….passion, maybe." "A what?" Lance fidgeted impatiently. "An imprint. Of teeth." "He fucking bit you?" Still smiling, Justin rolled his eyes. "I think they're still called 'hickeys,' Lance. You boob. And he didn't know he was doing it while he was doing it." Lance leaned forward, grinning and pleased. "He bit you when he was coming. In the fire of the moment. Enough to leave a mark." "Thanks for spelling it out so plain and cheap, dork." Lance's eyes burned green and gold. "Damn, that's hot, J. Makes my mouth water. Rarw. I might have to call Jess up after lunch and get in a quickie over the phone. He digs that aggressive, animal-boy type, and so do I, man. H-O-T, I'm saying." Justin's palms flew to his ears. "Don't. Want. To. Know. Lance. Sicko." "Well, you're the one sporting a fresh hickey and a sore ass. Don't be calling ME the sicko." "You should be proud of me." Justin slyly licked over his bottom lip. "Oh, I am, J. Let's see the fucker." "Hmm. Didn't see that one coming. And no. I won't." "And just why not?" Justin shook his head and pursed his lips. "Um, this is NOT Show and Tell, Lance. Get over it." "So is it on your hip or your ass or your thigh or what?" "Um, no. But maybe that's something to look forward to. All three places, in fact." Justin grinned. "Then stop being a fucking tease and let me see it. C'mon, man. I've seen you in the buff before." "The hell you say? No, you haven't! And shut up! You're not fucking gawking at it. It's private. Get your own. Vulture. I swear." Lance chuckled and smooched the air between them. "Fine, Justin. Maybe I will. You keep yours all to yourself and gloat the hell on. Selfish twat." Justin made a face. "Lunch at one then? I seriously need to get caught up here first. Today's been total madness." "Yeah, once you dragged your skanky-ho ass in here finally." "Eat. Me." Justin glared at him. Lance laughed warmly again. "Meet you in the lobby at exactly one. Don't make me wait. Oh, and bring your precious 'passion wound' too." Justin smirked at his Lance's crafty grin. "I certainly will. And you still won't get to see it." "Bitch." ~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~ Justin was spared any further surly contact with Wade that day. And that was perfectly okay with him. Wade's revolting arrogance was turned up on devilish high today, and Justin wasn't in the mood to butt heads with his assyness again. Besides, he had plenty of other stuff to immerse his mind in, thankfully. All afternoon, he was busy working up a few pitch ideas for a new "body butter" that was all the rage now in L.A. and that some c-list celebrity wanted to get famous by endorsing. He'd scored big with his own writing on the Deer Park campaign, so he felt confident enough to try his hand at it again with some taglines and copy for this one too. He certainly didn't want Wade getting a hold of a product called "body butter." Um, just no. So when Trace buzzed in on his office phone, it startled Justin as much as it annoyed him to be disturbed. He huffed, dropped his pen, and picked up the receiver. "Yes, Trace." "Bossman, you've got a call, dude." "And who is it?" "Uh, dunno. I forgot to ask. Sorry, man." Justin rolled his eyes and cracked his neck to the side. "Put it through, please. Thanks." "Sure, Justin. Hold on just a tiddly wink. I got it right here." "Justin Timberlake. What can I do for you?" he asked, sounding very professional, when the call clicked in. "Whoa. Dude. That's a loaded question if I ever heard one." Justin smiled, all irritation melting and draining right out of him. "Well, considering who's calling, hmm, not an inappropriate one." "Oh, yeah?" "Yes. It totally works well for you. In my humble opinion, of course." "You have yourself a lot of humble opinions, don't you?" JC asked softly, a gentle laugh echoing in his voice. "About you, yes. I do. I'm starting a nice little collection. And before you even ask, yes, they're all good ones." "Hmph. Just give that a little time. Watch it change." "I'm all for the giving-it-some-time part. We'll just have to see about the changing. I doubt it, though, I gotta say." JC snickered. "How ya doing, Mr. Frisky Phone Etiquette? Having a decent day so far?" "It's been a good day for a Monday. They're usually major hell. This one's been just moderate hell. And stop with all that frisky phone etiquette crap. You're so wrong." "Okay, okay. Just your basic sexy phone voice then." "Will you cut it out?" Justin laughed, light and feathery. "How's your day going?" "It's cool. I'm at the health club right now. I just finished up with my 3:00 court time. Poor chick. So bad she's sad." Justin laughed out loud. 'So bad she's sad'? That's hilarious!" "Yeah, well. You should've been there. She needs a lot more than lessons from me. Anyway, I had a little break before the 4:30 one and thought I'd shoot you a buzz." "To cancel out on tonight?" Justin blurted out. And then scrunched up his face, instantly regretting it. "No……….To ask if I should bring anything with me," JC answered coolly. "Oh." "You having second thoughts or something? Is that where that's coming from?" "No, JC. Of course not. It hadn't crossed my mind at all." "Mine either." Does there come a time when we don't have to check anymore? "So no. You don't need to bring anything. Just yourself." "Excellent. And if anything comes up or you change your mind -" "I won't. My mind's set on it, JC. I told you." "Relax. I meant about picking up something, whatever, on the way over. You could call my cell and let me know. That's all I was saying." JC's voice drifted out on smooth, even waves. "Oh. Sorry. I'm a dumbass." Justin sighed with his eyes closed. A paranoid freak that's still afraid you might just be too good to be real. "You're not even. Don't say that. You're just the victim of a stressing moderate-hell day at the office. A day that's almost over, right?" "It is. Thank goodness. Fuck……….At least it had a great start." "Yeah. It so did, didn't it?……….Hey. Know what?" JC laughed easily, as if he harbored a secret that Justin didn't know yet. "What?" "I, um, called for another reason too. So maybe the first thing I went on about - you know, about should I bring something when I come over - was just, um, a lame excuse or whatever to call. I mean I will. I'll bring anything you say. Really. It's no large deal. It's just that, see -" "JC." "Justin." Justin giggled into the phone, glad his office door was shut. "I don't know how you do it, but that circular going-on-and-on rambling talk of yours is the most addictive damn thing ever." "I was doing it again?" "Yes. But it's cute. I like it." "Hmm. Okay. If you say so." "I do," Justin murmured, and he could almost hear JC's smile. "Well, here's the thing. I like your voice on the phone. Or not on the phone. Whatever. I like it. It's nice……….And that's why I really called." "To hear it?" "Yep. There ya go. I'm all confessed up now." "Thanks. I feel so much more relaxed now." And Justin did. He sat back and let his chair swallow him up. "Awesome. Same here." "And don't worry about bringing shit tonight." "Sure you're not too tired or anything?" "No. Are you?" "I feel fine. I'll be there." "Great. I've got it all covered. Okay?" "Yeah, okay. I hear ya," JC purred. "Thanks for calling and checking, though. Even if it was a lame excuse, it was still thoughtful." "No problem. See ya soon then, okay?" "Okay. And JC?" "Yeah?" "Your voice. It works great on the telephone too. I like hearing it. On the telephone and not on the telephone……….One more little thing we've got in common……….In my humble opinion." "Hmm. Imagine that."