![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turpsTitle: Girls
Author: Terri
Fandom(s): Nsync
Rating PG
Author's Note: The first of 27 selfcontained but connected stories. Thanks go to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ephemera_pop for beta reading for me.
Summary: Nsync turn into girls, it's as simple as that.
There had been no hint that things were about to change. No crows roosting on top of the buses. No ominous silences or strange men looking their way. Well, no stranger than normal, anyway.
No, everything had been normal. Travel, rehearse, dance, sing. Lather, rinse, repeat.
All Lance knew was that he’d gone to sleep in his bunk. There had been a soft pillow under his cheek, and headphones jammed in his ears because Joey and Steve just wouldn’t shut up. And then this: waking in a corridor, cold metal against his face, shivering as he sat up. He had looked around, and been both relieved and dismayed to find Justin a few feet away.
The corridor echoed with empty sound, curving into the distance, silver walls broken by twenty-seven metal doors. Each door has a number and a word or two on a plaque welded to it. They found JC next to number twelve. Joey and Chris outside sixteen and twenty-four. Confused greetings as they kept walking, hushed voices and hurried footsteps until they halted, back at door number one.
No-one knew how they’d got here, and that was the scariest thing of all. Until it wasn’t, when they saw the sheet of paper where nothing had been before.
~*~*~*~
“Okay, so let's see if I've got this. We have to enter each of these twenty-seven rooms before we go home." Justin gestures towards the doorways. "Go into them blind, with no clue what's in there except what’s on the door. That’s insane. What kind of maniac thought up rules like that?!”
“The kind that kidnapped us in our sleep and brought us here, obviously.” Lance waves the laminated print-out of instructions in Justin’s direction. “I’ve read this out three times, you’ve read it. We’ve all read it. You bitching isn’t going to change things.”
“Maybe not. But it makes me feel better.” Justin scowls, brows almost meeting under the furrowed lines of his forehead. Lance has to admire his stamina, even Chris stopped protesting and kicking at the walls an hour ago. Justin’s the last one standing, and he's pacing the corridor. Lance’s head aches from the sound of sneakers squeaking against the metal floor, and his mouth is gritty and dry.
“This is stupid. Things like this don’t happen.” A savage echoing kick, and Justin sinks to the floor next to JC. “They just don’t.”
“The world’s a strange place sometimes,” JC says. Lance looks at him, waiting for him to say more, but he stays silent, offering comfort by patting Justin’s knee.
“I think we’ll have to do this. I can’t see any other option.” Joey is slumped against the wall. He looks at them all and indicates the instructions Lance is holding. “There’s no other way out, and no way am I going to sit here and starve to death when there's something we could be doing that might get us out of here.”
“He’s right. Although we’d probably die of thirst first, but whatever.” JC shrugs, soothing Justin with more pats when Justin looks at him with wide eyes. “It mightn’t be that bad.”
“That bad!” Chris shrieks.
Lance winces, headache spiking, reminded vividly of Chris’ earlier protests - high-pitched curses and shouts that were never meant to be listened to in a glorified echo chamber.
“You’ve read the thing, seen the doors. Do you really want to see what’s behind the wings door? Or the tentacles.”
“It’s the mpreg that worries me.” Joey shudders, obviously remembering Brianna’s birth.
“We’re going to do this aren’t we?” Justin interrupts, sounding resigned, and Lance wants to say no. That they’ll wait, be saved, do anything but play along with some mad man by going into those rooms. Problem is, they are going to do it, because there’s not really any other choice.
There is heavy silence, then a series of nods, and, by reluctant agreement, they stand.
“Where to first?” Joey’s looking up the corridor. His expression mirrored by them all, uncertainty, determination and fear.
“I guess we start with number one.” Chris moves toward the first door. “Genderswap. Just great.”
“I’m going to be a girl. I know it.” There’s muffled laughter, and Lance glares at Chris and Justin, because it’s not funny at all. All those years of being teased about his child bearing hips. If anyone's going to be switching genders, it's bound to be him.
“We’d better do this together.” JC’s hand is on Lance’s shoulder, comforting and familiar as he holds the other in front of him. One by one they place their hands together, a circle of friends and shared love, just like before a show. Then Chris straightens his shoulders, whispers ‘good luck’ and opens the door.
~*~*~*~
There’s a flash, and glittering streams of light. The scent of apples, petrol on a summer's day. Wind whipping at his clothes.
Lance lands with a bump, sprawling to the floor.
He lies still, stunned, while his stomach sinks back into place.
“Oh hell no!” It sounds like Joey – sort of. Joey voice with added pitch and a backdrop of smooth honey. Dawning suspicion and Lance opens his eyes, looking around as he pushes himself up, fighting against gravity that suddenly hits in all the wrong places. He collapses down, back hitting hard against grass when he sees Joey scrambling to his feet. Joey with shining dark hair to his shoulders, a nipped in waist and generous hips. Girl Joey is pretty, beautiful - but still - yeah. Lance shuts his eyes against that confusing thought.
“Tell me this isn’t as bad as it feels,” Justin says, his accent strong and wrapped around a lighter voice than before. Steeling himself, Lance cautiously opens an eye. Justin is sitting down, legs sprawled as he pats at his hair. He’s showing more than he should, an expanse of long golden legs and his shoes are topped with dainty blue bows. Forcing his eyes upwards, all Lance can focus on is his hair: golden curls that explode crazily from his head, decorated with matching bows.
“Shirley Temple much.” Chris doesn’t even try to hide his laughter, poking at Justin's curls with a black-tipped finger nail.
“At least I’m not channelling Mortica Adams.” Justin snaps, struggling to his feet and looking down at Chris. Lance has to admit that the Adams Family reference is valid, or at least a hybrid of that. He didn't remember Morticia wearing thigh high black kilts held together with shining rows of silver safety pins or a corset, which is showcasing Chris’ more than ample charms.
“You’re just jealous.” Chris pokes at his breasts and smiles a black lipsticked smile. He smoothes his hand over glossy black hair. “You look like you belong in a collection case next to the other porcelain dolls.”
“Better that than standing on a street corner with the other freaks.” Justin glares, but the effect is diluted by his pouting, rosebud lips and delicately rouged cheeks.
“You both look fantastic.” JC is looking from Chris to Justin, and Lance can easily imagine his thoughts. He looks amazing himself – herself? - all sleek lines and defined muscles, dressed in short shorts and a midriff bearing top
“Pervert.” Justin obviously knows too, mixing a scowl and laughter as he flips JC the bird.
“Nice girls don’t do that, J.” JC is grinning as he ducks away from Justin’s slapping hands, moving to stand next to Lance. This close, JC smells good, flowers and the sea.. “You look great, too.”
Lance takes JC’s word for it. He had caught glimpses of breasts and smooth legs, and felt silky fabric when he'd checked to be sure his dick really had vanished, and that was disturbing enough. He has no desire at all to know more.
“So what now?” Joey slinks closer to Lance and JC, hips swaying as he moves.
“I’ve no idea.” Lance’s headache is back, and he pinches at his nose with nails which are much longer than before.
“I’ve been thinking. It could be like that show. You know? The one with Captain Archer.” Chris walks closer, and Lance notes that the boots he’s wearing add at least four inches to his height.
“What? Enterprise?” Joey looks confused, but Chris shakes his head.
“He means Quantum Leap." JC waves his arms as he explains, exposing even more skin. "You know, leaping into other people’s lives. Righting a wrong. Taylor and I watched it all the time. Sam was the dude. Remember that episode when he was in a beauty pageant?”
“Hell yeah. Sam as a woman, not good.” Chris is laughing, and the ornate cross nestled between his breasts jiggles. Lances tries not to look, focussing on Justin who suddenly smiles.
“A beauty pageant. I can do that. It’s like riding a bike, you never forget.” Justin pats at his hair, fluffing the curls as he unleashes his professional smile. It’s a powerful force, and Lance feels himself drawn forward.
“Like you’d win looking like that. We’d have to enter Joey, he’s stacked.”
Joey beams at Chris’ comment. “I’ll enter. Take one for the team.” He twirls, and the slit in his dress reveals even more thigh, making JC and Chris whoop and applaud.
Lance can only wish it’s something as simple as a beauty contest. Being judged on looks, the ability to answer inane questions and walk in a straight line is second nature for all of them. Somehow he doesn’t think it’ll be that easy. “We’ll never find out anything just standing here.” Lance impatiently brushes away a lock of hair that flops over his eyes. It’s the same colour as his mom’s. He still doesn’t want to know.
“There are buildings over there.” Joey’s shading his eyes against the lowering sun. He’s on tiptoes, calves lean and leading to killer spiked heels. Lance doesn’t understand how Joey can even stand, never mind walk.
“Come on then.” Chris is already moving, boots flattening the grass as he strides away. His kilt moves with each step, flipping outward, exposing more leg each time.
“You think panties come with that outfit?” Joey asks as he stares.
“I hope not.” JC says. He licks his lips, a dart of tongue as he watches Chris walk away.
“We could find out.” Justin’s grinning, poised to run. “Hey, Kirkpatrick. You wearing panties!?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know!?” Chris turns, hair swinging out in a dark wave. His cross hits against his shoulder and he’s laughing as he keeps turning, starts running as JC and Justin give chase.
The images start to overlap with other memories, countless chases, insults and laughter, except this time there’s skirts and bouncing chests, and Lance squeeze shut his eyes.
“Hey man, it’s not that bad. At least we’re hot.” Joey leers exaggeratedly, and Lance can’t help but smile.
Joey’s hand is against Lance’s arm, red fingernails against his skin. A comforting touch as they walk, following the others.
~*~*~*~
There are pools of light on the sidewalk, bright spots in the darkness from the streetlamps that shine high overhead. People are everywhere, talk and laughter and clattering feet. Music collides in the air, drifting from bars and cafes, twisting together in a snarl of notes and beat.
“So, what now?” Justin looks lost. Lance knows how he feels. It’s not like he was expecting a sign flashing do your thing here, but he expected something. Not the normality of this scene, and even that’s scary, because when did being female become normal?
“I guess we look.” It’s a warm night and JC rubs a hand under the waistband of his shorts, attracting the attention of a passer by. The man smiles, and JC matches him smile to smile, tossing his head so his thick ponytail of curls trails down his back.
“Why don’t we try in there?” Chris points to the nearest bar and wraps his other hand around JC’s arm. JC eases into the touch, silky movements, and he’s pressed against Chris as the man winks and walks away.
“Floozie.” In his boots, Chris can look JC in the eyes, and they’re talking without words, whole conversations based on the curl of mouth and slant of eyebrows. At least that hasn't changed. Lance can’t help translating; always watching and ensuring things are fine.
“Are we going in or what?” Justin pushes between Chris and JC, pointing them toward the bar.
They walk as a group, clicking heels and the soft thud of boots against the sidewalk. They have to pass two bouncers to get inside, and Joey preens under their gaze, smiling wide, one hip thrust out, allowing his dress to expose a long length of leg. A flash of jealousy and Lance is at his side. It’s unexpected and confusing and Lance doesn’t want to think about it too much, just steers Joey toward the door.
The room is huge, filled with strobe lights and illuminated bars. Sofas line the walls, low and intimate, arranged around tables that face the dance floor. It’s like a million clubs Lance has been to before, but he’s never felt the music crawl across his bare back, something fluttering in his stomach as he stands and stares . Justin is heading toward a bar already. He eases through the crowd, confident and sure, despite not being dressed for this place at all. None of them are really, but Justin and JC are the most out of place.
“Come on.”
Joey’s hand is against Lance’s back. It’s smaller, smoother, and Lance shivers at the touch. He pulls away, needing distance and heads for the bar, always aware of Joey at his side.
Chris has claimed a bar stool, feet hooked around its legs. He’s flashing an expanse of inner thigh, and Lance can’t help seeing that panties do come with the outfit; matching ones even.
“That’s not ladylike, Chris.” Justin carefully seats himself on a stool, legs crossed and hands primly on his lap. He’s a vision of purity that’s jarring in this room, but Lance knows better. Can see the laughter behind Justin’s schooled expression.
“Fuck off.” Chris kicks at Justin’s leg, aiming at a delicate ankle.
“Is that Nick Carter?” JC suddenly cuts in, inclining his head to indicate the left of the bar.
Lance isn’t sure at first, but a second look confirms it. It is Nick, hair hidden under a dark bandana, sporting a pathetic excuse for a goatee and clothes that have clearly seen better days. More than anything it’s the slumped shoulders and lack of smile that disguises him so well. Nick is made to smile, and he's all beaming grins and laughter in Lance's memories. Up close his energy is a physical thing but there’s no evidence of that now as he makes for one of the couches toward the back of the room.
“He looks down,” Justin says, rubbing at his ankle. “You don’t think….”
Lance does think, a dawning realisation that this may be their illuminated sign. It’s too much of a coincidence otherwise, but still -- Nick Carter.
“So what do we do now? Go up and ask what’s wrong?” Joey asks.
“I’ve no idea.” Lance can’t answer. All of this is confusing to the extreme, and what if approaching Nick is the wrong thing to do?.
“Come on. As much as I kick ass like this, I miss my dick.” Chris slides from the stool, feet thumping against the floor. He pushes his hair back over his shoulders, then scowls when Justin grabs his arm.
“Hold on. We can’t just walk over there. What if he recognises us?” Justin’s frowning, perfect thin brows lowered.
“Like that’s going to happen. We’re girls.”
“Yeah, girls that look like us. Nick’s not stupid, if we go walking over like this he’ll know something’s up. Hell, look at Lance, he’s a hot version of his mom.”
Lance wants to block his ears, pretend that he can’t hear Justin. It’s impossible.
“Man, are you saying Diane isn’t hot, because….”
“If you say one more word I’ll have to kill you.” Lance rests his finger against JC’s belly, pushing hard enough to indent the skin.
“You’ve got it. Lips sealed and all that.”
JC mimes zipping his lips, and, seeing as being a woman doesn’t make him any less of a dork, all Lance can do is smile. “Good.” He moves his finger from JC’s belly with a last little prod, then, considering, looks over at Nick. “As much as I hate to say it, Justin’s right. We can’t all go over there. We need someone he’d want to talk to. What’s his type these days?”
“Yeah, like we keep track of Nick Carter’s love life.”
Lance raises an eyebrow, and he knows he’s still got it when Justin flushes an even deeper red than his carefully coloured cheeks.
“What?! I don’t know.” Lance keeps looking, calling bullshit with his gaze, until eventually Justin looks away. “I read is all. If any of you heathens read every now or then you’d know these things too.”
“I didn’t think Cosmo was a degree level text, then again, what do I know? I’m just a heathen,” Joey teases. He’s leaning against the bar, legs wide and taking up more space than he needs to. It’s a masculine pose but looks anything but with those long legs outlined in the sleek dress, his chest thrust up and out.
“I read real books too, ass. But whatever, we’re not talking about that.” Justin shrugs and pats at his hair. “Nick’s been into small, cute, and interesting lately. It’ll have to be Chris.”
“Okay, interesting is fine. Small and cute, I don’t think so.” Chris is bristling and attempts to fold his arms, giving up when he hits corset and cleavage.
“You’d rather be big and ugly like Joey?”
Justin winks, and JC reaches out his hand, resting it on the swell of Joey’s hip.
“Joey’s not ugly.”
“I’m not big either, just padded. More to hold onto, if you know what I’m sayin'.” Joey makes an obscene gesture with his fist and thrusts his hips. Lance has to force himself to look away, hating the heat that flows through his skin.
“You’re an animal, Joe.” Chris holds out his hand for a high five. Smaller than usual hands slap together, black nail varnish against red. “I’d better go and save the day. God knows, someone has to." Chris hops down from his stool.
To the causal observer, Chris appears confident, but he’s tapping his fingers on the bar, lip caught slightly between his teeth. Tiny signals that show how unsure he really is as Chris narrows his eyes and stares across at Nick.
“I’ll go talk to him, see if there are any wrongs I can put right. But I’m telling you now, he’s not leaving his bunch of losers to join us.” Chris looks at them all, as if daring them to disagree.
JC steps in front of Chris and grabs hold of his corset, tugging and arranging without shame, ending the preparations with a kiss against Chris’ cheek. “There. You’ll slay him. Go get him, tiger.”
Chris nods sharply, and moves away without another word.
Lance is used to watching Chris move, their profession means he has to move, and even on downtime he’s rarely still. But Lance has never seen him like this, stalking through the dancers, each step graceful, hips rolling, hair bouncing against his exposed shoulders.
“Man, Nick’s one lucky, cat.”
All Lance can do is agree.
~*~*~*~
It isn’t that Chris doesn’t know Nick. He’s known Nick since he was a gawky kid growing into his own body, all that perfect blonde hair and the wide smile hiding someone clinging to childhood despite being pushed into the adult world. They aren’t friends as such, but the connection has always been there, an understanding born of two people living the same sort of insane life.
That connection doesn’t help in the slightest now. Sure, they talk, and normally Chris wouldn’t have a second thought about approaching Nick, maybe sitting and shooting the breeze, with beers and greasy snacks made more delicious with the shared experience of PR suggestions they’ve both endured. Now though. Now Chris is a girl, that has to change things. Fingers tapping against his thigh, he assesses the situation. He knows he’s looks good, the safety pins look cool pushed through the black material of his skirt, and shorts have nothing on the freedom of feeling air against his legs. The boots are kick ass. Plus, he’s got a sweet rack, breasts pale against the dark corset. Really, Nick would be a fool turning him away. Chris keeps telling himself that as he takes a final deep breath, sliding down onto the couch and into Nick’s space.
“Hey.”
Nick looks up. He doesn’t attempt a smile, just glances at Chris before looking away, attention fixed on the glass clenched in his hand. There’s no smile, no slipping into the dealing with fans mode that Chris knows so well.
Chris can’t help worrying.
“I saw you and….”
“Do you want an autograph?” Nick cuts in, and the words are right even if the tone isn’t at all.
“No. I….”
“Fair enough.” Nick shrugs a little and drains the glass, swallowing his drink with one gulp. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and places the glass on the low table, clinking against the others that already stand there.
“It’s just….”
“I guess you want more. They all do.”
Chris glares. He hates being interrupted, especially when there’s something important to say.
“Will you just shut up a moment?” Chris has spent years perfecting the elder boybander tone. He may not use it often, but it’s there, and he leans forward slightly as Nick finally looks him in the eye.
“That’s freaky. Like. Kevin.” Nick’s eyes widen as he takes a quick look around. Chris is torn between amusement and horror. If being a girl wasn’t enough, now he sounds like Kevin Richardson?
“Look. I don’t want more. Or an autograph. All I want is to sit down and talk. Is that okay?” Chris demands, knowing Nick can get come ons at any time, sultry gazes and seductive praising words. Which is fine at first, but gets old fast. He just hopes Nick feels the same.
“You can stay.”
“Gee. Thanks.” Sarcasm loaded words, and Chris rolls his eyes.
“I’m getting another drink. What do you want?” Nick stands, teetering slightly and Chris puts his hand against Nick’s thigh.
“I’ll have a beer.”
“Not very ladylike.”
Nick is staring down, gaze fixed on Chris’ chest. Chris smiles, tilts back his head so his hair trails down his bare shoulders to frame his boobs. “I’m no lady.”
~*~*~*~
“As much as I love watching Chris do his thing, it gets kinda old from a distance. I’m gonna dance.”
Justin takes a moment to pull at his dress, then he’s hurrying to the dancefloor, JC only half a step behind. Lance waits for Joey to leave too, but he doesn’t. Instead he signals to the bar tender.
“If we’re waiting we might as well be comfortable. Two beers, please.” Joey pats his side, going for his wallet, then looks at Lance with wide eyes. “Have you got any money?”
There’s a moment of panic, realisation that his wallet is long gone. Money and credit cards, and photos ... The only thing Lance has is the small purse he woke up wearing looped over his shoulder. He pulls it open, relieved to see a credit card and lipstick tucked inside.
“Lana Bass. Lame.” Lance peers at the card before handing it over to the barman. It’s freaky to see his signature on the back of the card - someone has planned this, thought of all the details in advance. It makes Lance nervous, stomach bubbling as he pushes back thoughts of why and how. He takes his beer, drinking deeply. It tastes good, cooling his overheated body, and Lance clinks his bottle with Joey’s before they head toward an empty table.
Lance sinks down onto the soft couch. Self-consciously he smoothes his hands over his legs, tugging at his skirt, which ends mid thigh. Joey’s sitting close, lounging back as they watch Justin and JC dance. As always they’re attracting attention, albeit a slightly different type, and the crowd surrounding them thickens with every song. They never notice, just keep dancing, their skin becoming shiny with sweat.
“I knew JC would make a good girl, but Justin. The hands you know? I thought he’d be kinda butch, but he’s so not.” Joey’s holding his beer bottle between two fingers, balanced on the swell of his stomach as he watches Justin and JC. He sounds serious, as if he’s really given this some thought. Lance stays silent. His friends as women is something that’s honestly never crossed his mind.
“Chris is hot too, I’d do him.” Joey’s on his feet before Lance can reply. From this angle he’s huge, towering up high. “Give me your card, I’ll get more drinks.”
~*~*~*~
“You don’t know how it is. It looks so good, but isn’t. At least. Sometimes, yeah, it is good. Most of the time even. But you get no privacy and I keep ending up in the gossip rags.” Nick’s glass tilts, spilling vodka. The wet patch spreads across his pants leg, growing toward his knee.
“You can’t let it get to you, man.” Chris takes a sip of his beer, grimacing at the black lipstick that coats the neck. “No one believes what they read in those trash mags.”
“No. No, they do. I mean, they’re all lies, but still.” Nick slumps, head forward as he stares into his glass. “All I wanted was a relationship, but no. No offence, but women lie.”
“None taken.” Chris’ nails tap against the bottle. Nick’s revealing more of himself to Chris than ever before; emotions hauled out by a combination of alcohol and a friendly unknown ear. It makes Chris feel guilty, especially when Nick quickly wipes the knuckles of his hand across his eyes.
“I thought she was the one, and then she did that, you know? That’s why I stopped dating. Why put yourself out there to be kicked down?”
“Not all women are like that.”
Nick snorted. “The sane ones seem to keep away from me.”
Chris searches for something to say. He understands the difficulties of dating in the public eye, but explaining that to Nick would be impossible. “I guess. All you can do is keep looking.”
“That’s it? No great piece of advice?” Nick’s frowning, forehead creased under the bandanna pushed low on his head.
“There’s nothing else to say. You date or you don’t, but somehow I don’t see you as celibate.”
“Tell me about it.” Nick shifts in his seat a little, palming himself briefly over his pants.
“So do something about it. There’s plenty of women out there. You just need to find the right one.”
“Is this when you tell me that’s you, and that we’d be great together?” There’s a hint of a smile on Nick’s face, chasing away the strain that lines his eyes and mouth.
“As if. This isn’t for you.” Chris indicates his body with a swoop of his hand.
“Shame,” Nick says softly, and rests his hand on Chris’ thigh. He’s warm, finger tips rough as he moves them, stroking gently. “Because if I have to look, why not start with you?”
Chris knows the answer, but the reply is swept away when Nick moves closer, his hand sliding under Chris’ skirt. The contact makes him shiver, sensation focussed on his upper thigh. Arousal feels weird as a girl.
“We shouldn’t do this.” Chris’ protest is lame, obviously not meant at all, and he offers no resistance when Nick bends for a kiss. Nick tastes of vodka and the faint memory of limes. Dry lips and his hand is against Chris’ back, blunt nails against skin as Chris turns, wrapping his arms around Nick’s back. This is hidden fantasies suddenly bursting into life, hot and dizzying, holding on and fighting for breath at the feel of Nick’s mouth on his neck. The sting of teeth and his skirt riding up under Nick’s hand.
It’s too public and too soon. Chris couldn’t care less.
~*~*~*~
There are certain problems to being a girl. Lance’s hates the feel of panty hose, especially how they twist around his thighs. His nails are stupid, too, especially when he catches himself in the eye, and as for breasts. He’s never seen the appeal, and now he has a pair of his own, he still doesn’t. They’re always there, getting in the way. Really, they’re quite useless, and Lance prods at one, giggling as he does so. That’s another thing; girls have no tolerance, at all. Four beers and he’s swaying in place, holding onto the couch arm as the club melts into swirling bands of colour.
“Lance….Lance, I think we should go get some air.” Joey staggers to his feet and holds out his hand, but when Lance grabs hold Joey falls forward, and Lance is faced with a lapful of laughing girl Joey.
“No. Joey. The air is there.” Lance wildly throws out his arm, pointing toward outside.
“I know. We should go.” Joey’s nodding, and his hair is falling into Lance’s face, soft and silky. Lance has to touch, letting the strands slip through his fingers.
“We should go.” Lance lets his hand slip downward, over Joey’s bare shoulder, down over his chest, and maybe breasts are stupid, but Joey’s feel nice. Firm and round and Lance can’t seem to move his hand away.
“Come on.” Joey braces his arms on the couch back, and pushes himself up. He side steps once, then steadies, holding out his hand again.
Lance allows himself to be pulled upright. He keeps holding Joey’s hand as they carefully pick their way through the club, heading toward the main door. They pass Nick and Chris, at least Lance assumes it’s Chris. All he can see is a pair of black nailed hands wrapped around Nick’s back.
It’s tempting, but they don’t stop, Chris seems to be in control of the situation and Lance wants to get outside right now. His head is spinning and he clings to Joey’s hand tightly as they step into the night. The street is almost deserted now, a couple walking hand in hand, someone talking on their cell, gesturing angrily, one sided conversation filling the air. It’s a jarring contrast to inside, and Lance feels muffle-headed and stupid, confused even as Joey runs his thumb over the back of Lance’s hand.
“Do you know what you’re doing? Because I can’t just play. Not with you.”
Lance feels suddenly, shockingly, sober and knows blaming the alcohol isn’t going to be an option. He’s got no excuses for wanting Joey this badly, but maybe he doesn’t need any. It’s just is as it is. Things shouldn’t be so complicated. He tugs Joey into an alley, and Joey follows easily. It’s full of dumpsters, their contents spilling to the ground. There’s smashed bottles glinting in the dull light. Lance walks over them, feet crunching the glass.
“I’m not playing,” Lance says, and he backs Joey against the wall, runs his fingers over Joey’s cheekbones, bold touches. Feeling this Joey but seeing another.
“Tell me again when alcohol isn’t involved.” Joey sounds sad, but then his mouth is against Lance’s neck, his hands wandering down, pulling at Lance’s skirt. It hitches up, and Lance feels exposed, heart racing at the touch of cold air against his legs, the warmth of Joey’s fingers as they slide upward.
Lance has kissed Joey before, brief touches against cheek or mouth, but nothing like this. The waxy taste of lipstick, full lips, his hands against Joey’s back, fingers spread over soft skin.
~*~*~*~
“Nick. Nick. We have to stop.” Chris hates being the sensible one, and he scowls as the elastic of his panties twangs against his leg when Nick pulls away.
“I guess we got carried away.” There’s a hint of red colouring Nick’s cheeks, but his eyes sparkle as he smiles. It isn’t his usual mega watt grin, but it’s a good start, and Chris can’t help smiling back as he smoothes down his hair and adjusts his corset.
“What I said before. About not dating.” Nick rubs at his face, absently touches his neck, fingering the blooming mark Chris has left there. “I know this is sudden, but….”
~*~*~*~
Flashing lights, and Lance thinks cameras, jerking back as the world twists and pulls apart. Roaring sounds and he’s suddenly nothing, atoms scattered in the air, then thrust back together as he falls. He lands in a painful crash of body against floor, the others appearing around him.
“That was wild!” Justin stands with one fluid movement. He’s damp with sweat, and his eyes shine as he moves to stand over Chris. “You must have fixed things. What did you do?”
Chris has his legs pulled up to his chest, arms linked around them as he looks up at Justin. There’s a mark on his neck and Lance matches it against Nick’s mouth, imagination fuelled by Chris’s swollen lips, the way he grins when JC crawls close.
Justin kneels, hand on Chris’ knee. “You banged Nick Carter?”
“Nope, didn’t get the chance. We made out a little, but I think it was the talking that did it.” Chris’ grin fades, becomes something smaller, more private. “He’d sworn off women. I told him he was insane. That boy was not made to be celibate. The lights came when he asked me on a date.”
“And that was it? Our Leap situation was to push Nick Carter off the celibacy wagon.” Justin shakes his head and Lance understands. It seems too minor, if they have to play these rooms, stay in this place, surely they should be something more than that?
“So, what was it like? Did you get the chance to sample the goods?” JC has his hand on Chris’other knee, waiting for him to answer. “I was going to explore a little, but got distracted. Pity, I was a hot girl.”
“You were,” Chris agrees. “Better than Shirley Temple there. And it was good. Nick sure knows what he’s doing with his hands.”
“Too much information goth girl.” Justin has his hands over his ears, but drops them as he sits down, taking a place next to Chris and JC. “So, Nick. Tell me more.”
Lance tunes out the answer, he has no desire to know about Nick’s technique. Well, maybe a little, but he needs to sit next to Joey more.
Joey’s looking at Lance, unsure. Lance leans against him, comfortable against his shoulder, and Joey’s skin isn’t super soft and his hair isn’t long and silky. That doesn’t matter at all.
“We’d better get going,” JC says eventually, when the conversation dies down, and they're still sitting in the bare corridor. .They all stand, staring at the next door. Animal transformation. Surely that can’t be that bad?
Author: Terri
Fandom(s): Nsync
Rating PG
Author's Note: The first of 27 selfcontained but connected stories. Thanks go to
ephemera_pop for beta reading for me.Summary: Nsync turn into girls, it's as simple as that.
There had been no hint that things were about to change. No crows roosting on top of the buses. No ominous silences or strange men looking their way. Well, no stranger than normal, anyway.
No, everything had been normal. Travel, rehearse, dance, sing. Lather, rinse, repeat.
All Lance knew was that he’d gone to sleep in his bunk. There had been a soft pillow under his cheek, and headphones jammed in his ears because Joey and Steve just wouldn’t shut up. And then this: waking in a corridor, cold metal against his face, shivering as he sat up. He had looked around, and been both relieved and dismayed to find Justin a few feet away.
The corridor echoed with empty sound, curving into the distance, silver walls broken by twenty-seven metal doors. Each door has a number and a word or two on a plaque welded to it. They found JC next to number twelve. Joey and Chris outside sixteen and twenty-four. Confused greetings as they kept walking, hushed voices and hurried footsteps until they halted, back at door number one.
No-one knew how they’d got here, and that was the scariest thing of all. Until it wasn’t, when they saw the sheet of paper where nothing had been before.
~*~*~*~
“Okay, so let's see if I've got this. We have to enter each of these twenty-seven rooms before we go home." Justin gestures towards the doorways. "Go into them blind, with no clue what's in there except what’s on the door. That’s insane. What kind of maniac thought up rules like that?!”
“The kind that kidnapped us in our sleep and brought us here, obviously.” Lance waves the laminated print-out of instructions in Justin’s direction. “I’ve read this out three times, you’ve read it. We’ve all read it. You bitching isn’t going to change things.”
“Maybe not. But it makes me feel better.” Justin scowls, brows almost meeting under the furrowed lines of his forehead. Lance has to admire his stamina, even Chris stopped protesting and kicking at the walls an hour ago. Justin’s the last one standing, and he's pacing the corridor. Lance’s head aches from the sound of sneakers squeaking against the metal floor, and his mouth is gritty and dry.
“This is stupid. Things like this don’t happen.” A savage echoing kick, and Justin sinks to the floor next to JC. “They just don’t.”
“The world’s a strange place sometimes,” JC says. Lance looks at him, waiting for him to say more, but he stays silent, offering comfort by patting Justin’s knee.
“I think we’ll have to do this. I can’t see any other option.” Joey is slumped against the wall. He looks at them all and indicates the instructions Lance is holding. “There’s no other way out, and no way am I going to sit here and starve to death when there's something we could be doing that might get us out of here.”
“He’s right. Although we’d probably die of thirst first, but whatever.” JC shrugs, soothing Justin with more pats when Justin looks at him with wide eyes. “It mightn’t be that bad.”
“That bad!” Chris shrieks.
Lance winces, headache spiking, reminded vividly of Chris’ earlier protests - high-pitched curses and shouts that were never meant to be listened to in a glorified echo chamber.
“You’ve read the thing, seen the doors. Do you really want to see what’s behind the wings door? Or the tentacles.”
“It’s the mpreg that worries me.” Joey shudders, obviously remembering Brianna’s birth.
“We’re going to do this aren’t we?” Justin interrupts, sounding resigned, and Lance wants to say no. That they’ll wait, be saved, do anything but play along with some mad man by going into those rooms. Problem is, they are going to do it, because there’s not really any other choice.
There is heavy silence, then a series of nods, and, by reluctant agreement, they stand.
“Where to first?” Joey’s looking up the corridor. His expression mirrored by them all, uncertainty, determination and fear.
“I guess we start with number one.” Chris moves toward the first door. “Genderswap. Just great.”
“I’m going to be a girl. I know it.” There’s muffled laughter, and Lance glares at Chris and Justin, because it’s not funny at all. All those years of being teased about his child bearing hips. If anyone's going to be switching genders, it's bound to be him.
“We’d better do this together.” JC’s hand is on Lance’s shoulder, comforting and familiar as he holds the other in front of him. One by one they place their hands together, a circle of friends and shared love, just like before a show. Then Chris straightens his shoulders, whispers ‘good luck’ and opens the door.
~*~*~*~
There’s a flash, and glittering streams of light. The scent of apples, petrol on a summer's day. Wind whipping at his clothes.
Lance lands with a bump, sprawling to the floor.
He lies still, stunned, while his stomach sinks back into place.
“Oh hell no!” It sounds like Joey – sort of. Joey voice with added pitch and a backdrop of smooth honey. Dawning suspicion and Lance opens his eyes, looking around as he pushes himself up, fighting against gravity that suddenly hits in all the wrong places. He collapses down, back hitting hard against grass when he sees Joey scrambling to his feet. Joey with shining dark hair to his shoulders, a nipped in waist and generous hips. Girl Joey is pretty, beautiful - but still - yeah. Lance shuts his eyes against that confusing thought.
“Tell me this isn’t as bad as it feels,” Justin says, his accent strong and wrapped around a lighter voice than before. Steeling himself, Lance cautiously opens an eye. Justin is sitting down, legs sprawled as he pats at his hair. He’s showing more than he should, an expanse of long golden legs and his shoes are topped with dainty blue bows. Forcing his eyes upwards, all Lance can focus on is his hair: golden curls that explode crazily from his head, decorated with matching bows.
“Shirley Temple much.” Chris doesn’t even try to hide his laughter, poking at Justin's curls with a black-tipped finger nail.
“At least I’m not channelling Mortica Adams.” Justin snaps, struggling to his feet and looking down at Chris. Lance has to admit that the Adams Family reference is valid, or at least a hybrid of that. He didn't remember Morticia wearing thigh high black kilts held together with shining rows of silver safety pins or a corset, which is showcasing Chris’ more than ample charms.
“You’re just jealous.” Chris pokes at his breasts and smiles a black lipsticked smile. He smoothes his hand over glossy black hair. “You look like you belong in a collection case next to the other porcelain dolls.”
“Better that than standing on a street corner with the other freaks.” Justin glares, but the effect is diluted by his pouting, rosebud lips and delicately rouged cheeks.
“You both look fantastic.” JC is looking from Chris to Justin, and Lance can easily imagine his thoughts. He looks amazing himself – herself? - all sleek lines and defined muscles, dressed in short shorts and a midriff bearing top
“Pervert.” Justin obviously knows too, mixing a scowl and laughter as he flips JC the bird.
“Nice girls don’t do that, J.” JC is grinning as he ducks away from Justin’s slapping hands, moving to stand next to Lance. This close, JC smells good, flowers and the sea.. “You look great, too.”
Lance takes JC’s word for it. He had caught glimpses of breasts and smooth legs, and felt silky fabric when he'd checked to be sure his dick really had vanished, and that was disturbing enough. He has no desire at all to know more.
“So what now?” Joey slinks closer to Lance and JC, hips swaying as he moves.
“I’ve no idea.” Lance’s headache is back, and he pinches at his nose with nails which are much longer than before.
“I’ve been thinking. It could be like that show. You know? The one with Captain Archer.” Chris walks closer, and Lance notes that the boots he’s wearing add at least four inches to his height.
“What? Enterprise?” Joey looks confused, but Chris shakes his head.
“He means Quantum Leap." JC waves his arms as he explains, exposing even more skin. "You know, leaping into other people’s lives. Righting a wrong. Taylor and I watched it all the time. Sam was the dude. Remember that episode when he was in a beauty pageant?”
“Hell yeah. Sam as a woman, not good.” Chris is laughing, and the ornate cross nestled between his breasts jiggles. Lances tries not to look, focussing on Justin who suddenly smiles.
“A beauty pageant. I can do that. It’s like riding a bike, you never forget.” Justin pats at his hair, fluffing the curls as he unleashes his professional smile. It’s a powerful force, and Lance feels himself drawn forward.
“Like you’d win looking like that. We’d have to enter Joey, he’s stacked.”
Joey beams at Chris’ comment. “I’ll enter. Take one for the team.” He twirls, and the slit in his dress reveals even more thigh, making JC and Chris whoop and applaud.
Lance can only wish it’s something as simple as a beauty contest. Being judged on looks, the ability to answer inane questions and walk in a straight line is second nature for all of them. Somehow he doesn’t think it’ll be that easy. “We’ll never find out anything just standing here.” Lance impatiently brushes away a lock of hair that flops over his eyes. It’s the same colour as his mom’s. He still doesn’t want to know.
“There are buildings over there.” Joey’s shading his eyes against the lowering sun. He’s on tiptoes, calves lean and leading to killer spiked heels. Lance doesn’t understand how Joey can even stand, never mind walk.
“Come on then.” Chris is already moving, boots flattening the grass as he strides away. His kilt moves with each step, flipping outward, exposing more leg each time.
“You think panties come with that outfit?” Joey asks as he stares.
“I hope not.” JC says. He licks his lips, a dart of tongue as he watches Chris walk away.
“We could find out.” Justin’s grinning, poised to run. “Hey, Kirkpatrick. You wearing panties!?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know!?” Chris turns, hair swinging out in a dark wave. His cross hits against his shoulder and he’s laughing as he keeps turning, starts running as JC and Justin give chase.
The images start to overlap with other memories, countless chases, insults and laughter, except this time there’s skirts and bouncing chests, and Lance squeeze shut his eyes.
“Hey man, it’s not that bad. At least we’re hot.” Joey leers exaggeratedly, and Lance can’t help but smile.
Joey’s hand is against Lance’s arm, red fingernails against his skin. A comforting touch as they walk, following the others.
~*~*~*~
There are pools of light on the sidewalk, bright spots in the darkness from the streetlamps that shine high overhead. People are everywhere, talk and laughter and clattering feet. Music collides in the air, drifting from bars and cafes, twisting together in a snarl of notes and beat.
“So, what now?” Justin looks lost. Lance knows how he feels. It’s not like he was expecting a sign flashing do your thing here, but he expected something. Not the normality of this scene, and even that’s scary, because when did being female become normal?
“I guess we look.” It’s a warm night and JC rubs a hand under the waistband of his shorts, attracting the attention of a passer by. The man smiles, and JC matches him smile to smile, tossing his head so his thick ponytail of curls trails down his back.
“Why don’t we try in there?” Chris points to the nearest bar and wraps his other hand around JC’s arm. JC eases into the touch, silky movements, and he’s pressed against Chris as the man winks and walks away.
“Floozie.” In his boots, Chris can look JC in the eyes, and they’re talking without words, whole conversations based on the curl of mouth and slant of eyebrows. At least that hasn't changed. Lance can’t help translating; always watching and ensuring things are fine.
“Are we going in or what?” Justin pushes between Chris and JC, pointing them toward the bar.
They walk as a group, clicking heels and the soft thud of boots against the sidewalk. They have to pass two bouncers to get inside, and Joey preens under their gaze, smiling wide, one hip thrust out, allowing his dress to expose a long length of leg. A flash of jealousy and Lance is at his side. It’s unexpected and confusing and Lance doesn’t want to think about it too much, just steers Joey toward the door.
The room is huge, filled with strobe lights and illuminated bars. Sofas line the walls, low and intimate, arranged around tables that face the dance floor. It’s like a million clubs Lance has been to before, but he’s never felt the music crawl across his bare back, something fluttering in his stomach as he stands and stares . Justin is heading toward a bar already. He eases through the crowd, confident and sure, despite not being dressed for this place at all. None of them are really, but Justin and JC are the most out of place.
“Come on.”
Joey’s hand is against Lance’s back. It’s smaller, smoother, and Lance shivers at the touch. He pulls away, needing distance and heads for the bar, always aware of Joey at his side.
Chris has claimed a bar stool, feet hooked around its legs. He’s flashing an expanse of inner thigh, and Lance can’t help seeing that panties do come with the outfit; matching ones even.
“That’s not ladylike, Chris.” Justin carefully seats himself on a stool, legs crossed and hands primly on his lap. He’s a vision of purity that’s jarring in this room, but Lance knows better. Can see the laughter behind Justin’s schooled expression.
“Fuck off.” Chris kicks at Justin’s leg, aiming at a delicate ankle.
“Is that Nick Carter?” JC suddenly cuts in, inclining his head to indicate the left of the bar.
Lance isn’t sure at first, but a second look confirms it. It is Nick, hair hidden under a dark bandana, sporting a pathetic excuse for a goatee and clothes that have clearly seen better days. More than anything it’s the slumped shoulders and lack of smile that disguises him so well. Nick is made to smile, and he's all beaming grins and laughter in Lance's memories. Up close his energy is a physical thing but there’s no evidence of that now as he makes for one of the couches toward the back of the room.
“He looks down,” Justin says, rubbing at his ankle. “You don’t think….”
Lance does think, a dawning realisation that this may be their illuminated sign. It’s too much of a coincidence otherwise, but still -- Nick Carter.
“So what do we do now? Go up and ask what’s wrong?” Joey asks.
“I’ve no idea.” Lance can’t answer. All of this is confusing to the extreme, and what if approaching Nick is the wrong thing to do?.
“Come on. As much as I kick ass like this, I miss my dick.” Chris slides from the stool, feet thumping against the floor. He pushes his hair back over his shoulders, then scowls when Justin grabs his arm.
“Hold on. We can’t just walk over there. What if he recognises us?” Justin’s frowning, perfect thin brows lowered.
“Like that’s going to happen. We’re girls.”
“Yeah, girls that look like us. Nick’s not stupid, if we go walking over like this he’ll know something’s up. Hell, look at Lance, he’s a hot version of his mom.”
Lance wants to block his ears, pretend that he can’t hear Justin. It’s impossible.
“Man, are you saying Diane isn’t hot, because….”
“If you say one more word I’ll have to kill you.” Lance rests his finger against JC’s belly, pushing hard enough to indent the skin.
“You’ve got it. Lips sealed and all that.”
JC mimes zipping his lips, and, seeing as being a woman doesn’t make him any less of a dork, all Lance can do is smile. “Good.” He moves his finger from JC’s belly with a last little prod, then, considering, looks over at Nick. “As much as I hate to say it, Justin’s right. We can’t all go over there. We need someone he’d want to talk to. What’s his type these days?”
“Yeah, like we keep track of Nick Carter’s love life.”
Lance raises an eyebrow, and he knows he’s still got it when Justin flushes an even deeper red than his carefully coloured cheeks.
“What?! I don’t know.” Lance keeps looking, calling bullshit with his gaze, until eventually Justin looks away. “I read is all. If any of you heathens read every now or then you’d know these things too.”
“I didn’t think Cosmo was a degree level text, then again, what do I know? I’m just a heathen,” Joey teases. He’s leaning against the bar, legs wide and taking up more space than he needs to. It’s a masculine pose but looks anything but with those long legs outlined in the sleek dress, his chest thrust up and out.
“I read real books too, ass. But whatever, we’re not talking about that.” Justin shrugs and pats at his hair. “Nick’s been into small, cute, and interesting lately. It’ll have to be Chris.”
“Okay, interesting is fine. Small and cute, I don’t think so.” Chris is bristling and attempts to fold his arms, giving up when he hits corset and cleavage.
“You’d rather be big and ugly like Joey?”
Justin winks, and JC reaches out his hand, resting it on the swell of Joey’s hip.
“Joey’s not ugly.”
“I’m not big either, just padded. More to hold onto, if you know what I’m sayin'.” Joey makes an obscene gesture with his fist and thrusts his hips. Lance has to force himself to look away, hating the heat that flows through his skin.
“You’re an animal, Joe.” Chris holds out his hand for a high five. Smaller than usual hands slap together, black nail varnish against red. “I’d better go and save the day. God knows, someone has to." Chris hops down from his stool.
To the causal observer, Chris appears confident, but he’s tapping his fingers on the bar, lip caught slightly between his teeth. Tiny signals that show how unsure he really is as Chris narrows his eyes and stares across at Nick.
“I’ll go talk to him, see if there are any wrongs I can put right. But I’m telling you now, he’s not leaving his bunch of losers to join us.” Chris looks at them all, as if daring them to disagree.
JC steps in front of Chris and grabs hold of his corset, tugging and arranging without shame, ending the preparations with a kiss against Chris’ cheek. “There. You’ll slay him. Go get him, tiger.”
Chris nods sharply, and moves away without another word.
Lance is used to watching Chris move, their profession means he has to move, and even on downtime he’s rarely still. But Lance has never seen him like this, stalking through the dancers, each step graceful, hips rolling, hair bouncing against his exposed shoulders.
“Man, Nick’s one lucky, cat.”
All Lance can do is agree.
~*~*~*~
It isn’t that Chris doesn’t know Nick. He’s known Nick since he was a gawky kid growing into his own body, all that perfect blonde hair and the wide smile hiding someone clinging to childhood despite being pushed into the adult world. They aren’t friends as such, but the connection has always been there, an understanding born of two people living the same sort of insane life.
That connection doesn’t help in the slightest now. Sure, they talk, and normally Chris wouldn’t have a second thought about approaching Nick, maybe sitting and shooting the breeze, with beers and greasy snacks made more delicious with the shared experience of PR suggestions they’ve both endured. Now though. Now Chris is a girl, that has to change things. Fingers tapping against his thigh, he assesses the situation. He knows he’s looks good, the safety pins look cool pushed through the black material of his skirt, and shorts have nothing on the freedom of feeling air against his legs. The boots are kick ass. Plus, he’s got a sweet rack, breasts pale against the dark corset. Really, Nick would be a fool turning him away. Chris keeps telling himself that as he takes a final deep breath, sliding down onto the couch and into Nick’s space.
“Hey.”
Nick looks up. He doesn’t attempt a smile, just glances at Chris before looking away, attention fixed on the glass clenched in his hand. There’s no smile, no slipping into the dealing with fans mode that Chris knows so well.
Chris can’t help worrying.
“I saw you and….”
“Do you want an autograph?” Nick cuts in, and the words are right even if the tone isn’t at all.
“No. I….”
“Fair enough.” Nick shrugs a little and drains the glass, swallowing his drink with one gulp. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and places the glass on the low table, clinking against the others that already stand there.
“It’s just….”
“I guess you want more. They all do.”
Chris glares. He hates being interrupted, especially when there’s something important to say.
“Will you just shut up a moment?” Chris has spent years perfecting the elder boybander tone. He may not use it often, but it’s there, and he leans forward slightly as Nick finally looks him in the eye.
“That’s freaky. Like. Kevin.” Nick’s eyes widen as he takes a quick look around. Chris is torn between amusement and horror. If being a girl wasn’t enough, now he sounds like Kevin Richardson?
“Look. I don’t want more. Or an autograph. All I want is to sit down and talk. Is that okay?” Chris demands, knowing Nick can get come ons at any time, sultry gazes and seductive praising words. Which is fine at first, but gets old fast. He just hopes Nick feels the same.
“You can stay.”
“Gee. Thanks.” Sarcasm loaded words, and Chris rolls his eyes.
“I’m getting another drink. What do you want?” Nick stands, teetering slightly and Chris puts his hand against Nick’s thigh.
“I’ll have a beer.”
“Not very ladylike.”
Nick is staring down, gaze fixed on Chris’ chest. Chris smiles, tilts back his head so his hair trails down his bare shoulders to frame his boobs. “I’m no lady.”
~*~*~*~
“As much as I love watching Chris do his thing, it gets kinda old from a distance. I’m gonna dance.”
Justin takes a moment to pull at his dress, then he’s hurrying to the dancefloor, JC only half a step behind. Lance waits for Joey to leave too, but he doesn’t. Instead he signals to the bar tender.
“If we’re waiting we might as well be comfortable. Two beers, please.” Joey pats his side, going for his wallet, then looks at Lance with wide eyes. “Have you got any money?”
There’s a moment of panic, realisation that his wallet is long gone. Money and credit cards, and photos ... The only thing Lance has is the small purse he woke up wearing looped over his shoulder. He pulls it open, relieved to see a credit card and lipstick tucked inside.
“Lana Bass. Lame.” Lance peers at the card before handing it over to the barman. It’s freaky to see his signature on the back of the card - someone has planned this, thought of all the details in advance. It makes Lance nervous, stomach bubbling as he pushes back thoughts of why and how. He takes his beer, drinking deeply. It tastes good, cooling his overheated body, and Lance clinks his bottle with Joey’s before they head toward an empty table.
Lance sinks down onto the soft couch. Self-consciously he smoothes his hands over his legs, tugging at his skirt, which ends mid thigh. Joey’s sitting close, lounging back as they watch Justin and JC dance. As always they’re attracting attention, albeit a slightly different type, and the crowd surrounding them thickens with every song. They never notice, just keep dancing, their skin becoming shiny with sweat.
“I knew JC would make a good girl, but Justin. The hands you know? I thought he’d be kinda butch, but he’s so not.” Joey’s holding his beer bottle between two fingers, balanced on the swell of his stomach as he watches Justin and JC. He sounds serious, as if he’s really given this some thought. Lance stays silent. His friends as women is something that’s honestly never crossed his mind.
“Chris is hot too, I’d do him.” Joey’s on his feet before Lance can reply. From this angle he’s huge, towering up high. “Give me your card, I’ll get more drinks.”
~*~*~*~
“You don’t know how it is. It looks so good, but isn’t. At least. Sometimes, yeah, it is good. Most of the time even. But you get no privacy and I keep ending up in the gossip rags.” Nick’s glass tilts, spilling vodka. The wet patch spreads across his pants leg, growing toward his knee.
“You can’t let it get to you, man.” Chris takes a sip of his beer, grimacing at the black lipstick that coats the neck. “No one believes what they read in those trash mags.”
“No. No, they do. I mean, they’re all lies, but still.” Nick slumps, head forward as he stares into his glass. “All I wanted was a relationship, but no. No offence, but women lie.”
“None taken.” Chris’ nails tap against the bottle. Nick’s revealing more of himself to Chris than ever before; emotions hauled out by a combination of alcohol and a friendly unknown ear. It makes Chris feel guilty, especially when Nick quickly wipes the knuckles of his hand across his eyes.
“I thought she was the one, and then she did that, you know? That’s why I stopped dating. Why put yourself out there to be kicked down?”
“Not all women are like that.”
Nick snorted. “The sane ones seem to keep away from me.”
Chris searches for something to say. He understands the difficulties of dating in the public eye, but explaining that to Nick would be impossible. “I guess. All you can do is keep looking.”
“That’s it? No great piece of advice?” Nick’s frowning, forehead creased under the bandanna pushed low on his head.
“There’s nothing else to say. You date or you don’t, but somehow I don’t see you as celibate.”
“Tell me about it.” Nick shifts in his seat a little, palming himself briefly over his pants.
“So do something about it. There’s plenty of women out there. You just need to find the right one.”
“Is this when you tell me that’s you, and that we’d be great together?” There’s a hint of a smile on Nick’s face, chasing away the strain that lines his eyes and mouth.
“As if. This isn’t for you.” Chris indicates his body with a swoop of his hand.
“Shame,” Nick says softly, and rests his hand on Chris’ thigh. He’s warm, finger tips rough as he moves them, stroking gently. “Because if I have to look, why not start with you?”
Chris knows the answer, but the reply is swept away when Nick moves closer, his hand sliding under Chris’ skirt. The contact makes him shiver, sensation focussed on his upper thigh. Arousal feels weird as a girl.
“We shouldn’t do this.” Chris’ protest is lame, obviously not meant at all, and he offers no resistance when Nick bends for a kiss. Nick tastes of vodka and the faint memory of limes. Dry lips and his hand is against Chris’ back, blunt nails against skin as Chris turns, wrapping his arms around Nick’s back. This is hidden fantasies suddenly bursting into life, hot and dizzying, holding on and fighting for breath at the feel of Nick’s mouth on his neck. The sting of teeth and his skirt riding up under Nick’s hand.
It’s too public and too soon. Chris couldn’t care less.
~*~*~*~
There are certain problems to being a girl. Lance’s hates the feel of panty hose, especially how they twist around his thighs. His nails are stupid, too, especially when he catches himself in the eye, and as for breasts. He’s never seen the appeal, and now he has a pair of his own, he still doesn’t. They’re always there, getting in the way. Really, they’re quite useless, and Lance prods at one, giggling as he does so. That’s another thing; girls have no tolerance, at all. Four beers and he’s swaying in place, holding onto the couch arm as the club melts into swirling bands of colour.
“Lance….Lance, I think we should go get some air.” Joey staggers to his feet and holds out his hand, but when Lance grabs hold Joey falls forward, and Lance is faced with a lapful of laughing girl Joey.
“No. Joey. The air is there.” Lance wildly throws out his arm, pointing toward outside.
“I know. We should go.” Joey’s nodding, and his hair is falling into Lance’s face, soft and silky. Lance has to touch, letting the strands slip through his fingers.
“We should go.” Lance lets his hand slip downward, over Joey’s bare shoulder, down over his chest, and maybe breasts are stupid, but Joey’s feel nice. Firm and round and Lance can’t seem to move his hand away.
“Come on.” Joey braces his arms on the couch back, and pushes himself up. He side steps once, then steadies, holding out his hand again.
Lance allows himself to be pulled upright. He keeps holding Joey’s hand as they carefully pick their way through the club, heading toward the main door. They pass Nick and Chris, at least Lance assumes it’s Chris. All he can see is a pair of black nailed hands wrapped around Nick’s back.
It’s tempting, but they don’t stop, Chris seems to be in control of the situation and Lance wants to get outside right now. His head is spinning and he clings to Joey’s hand tightly as they step into the night. The street is almost deserted now, a couple walking hand in hand, someone talking on their cell, gesturing angrily, one sided conversation filling the air. It’s a jarring contrast to inside, and Lance feels muffle-headed and stupid, confused even as Joey runs his thumb over the back of Lance’s hand.
“Do you know what you’re doing? Because I can’t just play. Not with you.”
Lance feels suddenly, shockingly, sober and knows blaming the alcohol isn’t going to be an option. He’s got no excuses for wanting Joey this badly, but maybe he doesn’t need any. It’s just is as it is. Things shouldn’t be so complicated. He tugs Joey into an alley, and Joey follows easily. It’s full of dumpsters, their contents spilling to the ground. There’s smashed bottles glinting in the dull light. Lance walks over them, feet crunching the glass.
“I’m not playing,” Lance says, and he backs Joey against the wall, runs his fingers over Joey’s cheekbones, bold touches. Feeling this Joey but seeing another.
“Tell me again when alcohol isn’t involved.” Joey sounds sad, but then his mouth is against Lance’s neck, his hands wandering down, pulling at Lance’s skirt. It hitches up, and Lance feels exposed, heart racing at the touch of cold air against his legs, the warmth of Joey’s fingers as they slide upward.
Lance has kissed Joey before, brief touches against cheek or mouth, but nothing like this. The waxy taste of lipstick, full lips, his hands against Joey’s back, fingers spread over soft skin.
~*~*~*~
“Nick. Nick. We have to stop.” Chris hates being the sensible one, and he scowls as the elastic of his panties twangs against his leg when Nick pulls away.
“I guess we got carried away.” There’s a hint of red colouring Nick’s cheeks, but his eyes sparkle as he smiles. It isn’t his usual mega watt grin, but it’s a good start, and Chris can’t help smiling back as he smoothes down his hair and adjusts his corset.
“What I said before. About not dating.” Nick rubs at his face, absently touches his neck, fingering the blooming mark Chris has left there. “I know this is sudden, but….”
~*~*~*~
Flashing lights, and Lance thinks cameras, jerking back as the world twists and pulls apart. Roaring sounds and he’s suddenly nothing, atoms scattered in the air, then thrust back together as he falls. He lands in a painful crash of body against floor, the others appearing around him.
“That was wild!” Justin stands with one fluid movement. He’s damp with sweat, and his eyes shine as he moves to stand over Chris. “You must have fixed things. What did you do?”
Chris has his legs pulled up to his chest, arms linked around them as he looks up at Justin. There’s a mark on his neck and Lance matches it against Nick’s mouth, imagination fuelled by Chris’s swollen lips, the way he grins when JC crawls close.
Justin kneels, hand on Chris’ knee. “You banged Nick Carter?”
“Nope, didn’t get the chance. We made out a little, but I think it was the talking that did it.” Chris’ grin fades, becomes something smaller, more private. “He’d sworn off women. I told him he was insane. That boy was not made to be celibate. The lights came when he asked me on a date.”
“And that was it? Our Leap situation was to push Nick Carter off the celibacy wagon.” Justin shakes his head and Lance understands. It seems too minor, if they have to play these rooms, stay in this place, surely they should be something more than that?
“So, what was it like? Did you get the chance to sample the goods?” JC has his hand on Chris’other knee, waiting for him to answer. “I was going to explore a little, but got distracted. Pity, I was a hot girl.”
“You were,” Chris agrees. “Better than Shirley Temple there. And it was good. Nick sure knows what he’s doing with his hands.”
“Too much information goth girl.” Justin has his hands over his ears, but drops them as he sits down, taking a place next to Chris and JC. “So, Nick. Tell me more.”
Lance tunes out the answer, he has no desire to know about Nick’s technique. Well, maybe a little, but he needs to sit next to Joey more.
Joey’s looking at Lance, unsure. Lance leans against him, comfortable against his shoulder, and Joey’s skin isn’t super soft and his hair isn’t long and silky. That doesn’t matter at all.
“We’d better get going,” JC says eventually, when the conversation dies down, and they're still sitting in the bare corridor. .They all stand, staring at the next door. Animal transformation. Surely that can’t be that bad?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2006-07-22 12:36 pm (UTC)I have more comments, but I'm barely functioning at the moment; bad night sleeping. I'll email you later, honey :) *hugs tight* The story is really great, though. I loved it :)
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Date: 2006-07-22 12:41 pm (UTC)The JoLa made me happy. So happy. And awww, Nick!
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Date: 2006-07-22 12:44 pm (UTC)I really like writing the crack, but did try to make it a real story too, so I'm glad it worked for you. As for trickc, dude, my OTP haven't been out to play for a while, that's about to change ;)
The comments you gave are more than enough. I hope you get some good sleep soon. I worry about you. *hugs tight*
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Date: 2006-07-22 12:45 pm (UTC)And yes, Nick. He may be seen again ;)
How's things going for you today? Feeling better?
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Date: 2006-07-22 12:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-22 02:16 pm (UTC)*eyes T suspicously*
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Date: 2006-07-22 02:16 pm (UTC)Why did I read that? ;-)
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Date: 2006-07-22 02:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-22 02:45 pm (UTC)*eyes you back*
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Date: 2006-07-22 02:51 pm (UTC)[sobs]
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Date: 2006-07-22 02:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-22 03:08 pm (UTC)(I know, I know. Just leave me alone with my delusions for a while, okay?)
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Date: 2006-07-22 04:29 pm (UTC)I'm amused that the JoLa seems to be the thing to comment about *g*
Sadly the stories aren't dedicated to Lance and Joey finding love, but they do have a sketchy arc that goes through all 27. I just try not to think about it too much ;)
things I missed
Date: 2006-07-22 06:06 pm (UTC)hidden fantasy’s - hidden fantasies
they twists around his thighs - they twist around
***
I still adore denial!Lance, and you wrote me girl!chris/nick and I luff you!
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Date: 2006-07-22 06:21 pm (UTC)Sweetie, I absolutely love you SO much right now. Can the narrator guy from QL be in there somewhere? I have so much to say about this that I can barely even begin.
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Date: 2006-07-22 08:16 pm (UTC)But why? They really should be!
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Date: 2006-07-22 08:21 pm (UTC)one small thing: this bit: We have to play each of these twenty-seven rooms before we go home.... sounds like they have a gig in each room. A musical one. I know what you meant, but it's still a bit jarring each time it comes up.
and they're still sat in the bare corridor. .They you've got an extra period and I think you mean sitting not sat. ok, I'll stop now. lol
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Date: 2006-07-23 12:10 am (UTC)And what a perfect icon too!
While you're here you may be roped into brain storming more of these ;)
Got them. Thank you. If there's more that hits you wrong, just let me know. I don't bite *g*
Btw, got your mail. I'll reply in the morning because I'm asleep on my feet here. Also will hopefully catch you on IM tomorrow night/late afternoon.
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Date: 2006-07-23 02:57 am (UTC)I had to stop reading for a while after that. My happy place was TOTALLY calling. Wub.
Loved the whole story and can't wait for the next installments.
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Date: 2006-07-23 05:27 am (UTC)And the entire situation you have them in, with the doors! It really freaked me out in the beginning--kind of reminded me of Hostel with all the different rooms and stuff--But if you haven't seen Hostel and you don't understand that, don't worry about it because that movie isn't worth your time :D
(But if you have seen it and you like it, I also see where you are coming from there--I go both ways on that movie. Enough with the rambles though!)
I would have never thought of anything like this in a MILLION years! How creative and fun!
And the Nick Carter thing? So. Awesome. I am in love with a particular line:
“As if. This isn’t for you.” Chris indicates his body with a swoop of his hand.
That image is so vivid in my head I laughed out loud three or four times, because it deserves to be read more then once.
And I love all the touchy feelyness going on between the bo--er, girls? Haha. JC was made to be adored in this and I love how he questions Chris about Nick.
Lance's doubt is also just as adorable. *sigh* And Justin's whining and comparison to Shirley Temple just made my day.
This was delightful and I am already itching for the next installment. Yay!
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Date: 2006-07-23 05:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-23 07:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-24 12:56 am (UTC)Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant.
Can't wait for the rest!
and i can't help but laugh at the fact that if they just sat in the hallway and pouted, you would TOTALLY let them out, you big softie! but they won't catch on, so all is well.
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Date: 2006-07-24 04:45 am (UTC)Chris--Mortica goth female
then theres another JC that I did awhile back
and the spice boys aka n chick
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Date: 2006-07-24 04:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-24 04:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-24 05:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-24 05:25 pm (UTC)Thank you, honey.
*mwah*
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Date: 2006-07-24 05:26 pm (UTC)I'm having fun writing these :)
You know me too well. Thankfully though, they don't *g*
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Date: 2006-07-24 05:27 pm (UTC)I hope you enjoy the rest when you read it :)
Thanks so much for the comment.
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Date: 2006-07-24 05:28 pm (UTC)I'm so glad you enjoyed it :)
Re: things I missed
Date: 2006-07-24 05:32 pm (UTC)I did write you girl!Chris!nick, because I luff you too!
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Date: 2006-07-24 05:34 pm (UTC)Hmmm, well there is a media crossover, so who knows. He could turn up ;)
I'm glad you liked it, thank you!
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Date: 2006-07-24 05:35 pm (UTC)Dude, I know! I was in my happy place too *g*
I'm glad you enjoyed. Thank you!
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Date: 2006-07-24 05:47 pm (UTC)I haven't seen Hostle but I was going for a creep atmosphere, so if that worked, I'm so glad.
Thanks for telling me your favorite bits. I love when people do that, and I have to admit that I love that line that you picked out too. I so love Nick and Chris together, and sure the fact that Chris is a girl at the time gives it an added element of fun, I hope so anyway.
Thank you again :)
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Date: 2006-07-24 09:57 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for the comment. Getting any comment is wonderful. One like this. I'm just blown away.
I know what it's like to work hard on art and then want people to appreciate it :D I love leaving comments for people because they deserve to be appreciated for all the work they put into something. I would imagine that writing a crack!fic this well wasn't easy and I commend you for that!
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Date: 2006-07-24 10:34 pm (UTC)the trickc girls... kiwi and passionfruit :) LOL
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Date: 2006-07-24 10:35 pm (UTC)Thank YOU
*mwah*
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Date: 2006-07-24 10:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-25 02:43 pm (UTC)Seriously, JoLa? I know I'm in a minority, but ick! :-)