mickeym | [ New Fic: I Feel You

I Feel You - Chris/Lance. NC17. (pre-euro era, for those who don't care for that timeframe)

Summary: Lance thinks he's not wanted. Chris shows him differently.

My contribution for the Shake The Disease: A Happyfic Challenge

Not mine, not real. This is just for fun. Enjoy!

Lots of thanks to

pierson for the beta :)

I feel you
Your precious soul
And I am whole

Chris had been through the entire house once, even peeking into Justin and JC's rooms, opening closed doors quietly. JC was on his back, headphones on, eyes slitted sleepily. Chris didn't think JC saw him; he was too lost in whatever music was currently piping directly into his brain. Justin was curled onto his side, hands tucked up under his chin, sound asleep. Chris kinda wished he could curl up somewhere and be sound asleep, but not yet.

Joey was with Phyllis and Joe tonight, getting in some family time in the face of so much upheaval, so when he looked into Joey's room he didn't expect to see anything; there were just shadows flickering here and there where headlights flirted with palm trees and night skies and mini-blinds.

He already knew his – their – room was empty; it'd been the first logical place to look. So now Chris stood in the living room, dark but for the dim yellow light shining from the nightlight on in the bathroom down the hall, and closed his eyes, breathing quietly. Listening. Thinking. Still and quiet was hard for him sometimes; he liked energy, movement, noise. But he could be, when the situation called for it.

Shadows shifted against the backs of his eyelids, and Chris opened his eyes, looked around. Still nothing in the house, but outside…outside, colored pale white from the moon reflecting off dark pool water and white slate deck tiles, there he was. A small figure on the far side of the pool, knees drawn up to his chest, arms cinched loosely around them. Chris couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed from here, but he'd bet on open. Lance didn't close his eyes against anything life threw at him—he'd had almost eight months to learn that.

The hot Florida air hit him in the chest the minute he stepped outside. Even this late, and it was nearly eleven p.m., the air was heat-and-humidity saturated. A few mosquitoes buzzed past him, and Chris could hear the soft rustle and hum of other insects playing night's music. It would've been soothing under any other circumstances, but right now it just made him ache.

Lance didn't say anything when Chris dropped down beside him, drawing his legs up into the same position, so he nudged him gently. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Kinda warm out here." Chris tipped his head back and eyed the sky. Clear, and dotted with stars. "Nice night for swimming."

"Mmm." He wouldn't look at Chris but kept his eyes firmly on the pool in front of them. Chris sighed and scooted a little closer, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach when warm sweaty skin brushed his. Lance tensed. "Chris—"

"Swimming, man. You need to swim. And smile."

"Yeah, 'cos I have so much to smile about right now, don't I?" The bitterness ringing in Lance's voice made Chris' stomach hurt. No one should sound that bitter at seventeen. It was all kinds of fucked up, and made him want to hit things all over again.

"Well, you have four…no, five reasons, that I can think of, to smile."

Lance tilted his head sideways, eyes cool and shadowy in the dark. "Five?"

"Mmm. Us and Johnny."

That got him a tiny smile. "Technically that's only two."

"Huh?"

"If you list you and the other guys as an 'us', it's kinda technically a singular thing."

"Hmm." Chris nudged Lance again. "Okay, smart-ass. Johnny, Joe, JC, Justin and me." He ticked them off on his fingers, then heaved an aggrieved sigh. "Kids these days. Educate 'em and they think they're smarter than you."

"Yup." Lance leaned his head against Chris' shoulder and they sat quietly for a while, nothing but night sounds around them. Lance broke the silence with a soft, "They don't want me, man."

"But we do."

"But it's not up to y'all."

"Sure it is." Chris picked a twig up from beside him and poked at his sneaker. When he looked at Lance, he was looking away. "It's really pretty simple, actually. No you, no Nsync. No group."

"Then y'all are idiots," he said, voice flat. "I'm just…one guy, Chris. Why would you—this is your dream. Your goal. Why would you give it up for one…for me?"

"Because you're not 'just' anything, dude. You're my friend." Chris shifted so he could look at Lance. "We all feel that way. So you ain't goin' anywhere, Bass. It's either all of us, all the way, or none of us at all. We already decided."

"Don't I get a say in this?" There was a hint of smile mixed in with the belligerent tone, and Chris grinned and shook his head.

"Nope. Not this time."

"Dork." Lance leaned back against him and Chris could feel the warmth of his breath through the cotton t-shirt. It made his skin tingle. "I'm serious, though. Why? I'm just. Y'all could replace me."

"We could. But we don't want to. You're not just…it's not just about singing. It's about. It's the way we all fit together." He could almost feel Lance's blank look, even though he couldn't see his face. Chris frowned, then touched Lance's hand, sliding their fingers together before raising their linked hands. "We all fit like this, dude. Perfect fit. We each…bring something to the mix. If it was just about the voice, it wouldn't be a big deal. But it's more than that. It's about you, and about balance, and the way we all interact. How we…complete each other. It's. We don't give up on each other, ever. No matter what. We don't forget about each other. We're all there, together. Get it?" He gave Lance's hand a squeeze before letting go.

"I." Lance pulled away and turned to look at him. "Wow. I don't know…what to say."

"Yeah, well." Chris ducked his head, glad for the hair that fell into his face. He'd kinda gotten carried away; hadn't meant to say all that. But the thought of Lance thinking he was replaceable—just, no. On so many levels, including a few he wasn't ready to vocalize—to Lance, or himself. "So, um. Swimming?"

"We'd wake everyone up. You can't swim quiet to save your life." A sharp sting between his eyes made him growl softly and Lance grinned and flicked him again. "You can't. And you've just about used up your quota of quiet time for like, the next week, Chris—eee!" His voice rose to almost a squeak when Chris grabbed and tickled him, fingers scrabbling under sweat-damp cloth to skate lightly over his ribs.

"So we won't swim here." He couldn't help but be a little smug; it wasn't often any of them could get Lance to hit those notes—they were practically within Chris' range. Basses just did not typically squeak.

"If we're not swimming here, then where?" What a pity Lance was tugging his shirt back down. Chris liked the way the moon emphasized the slice of pale skin between shirt hem and shorts. He waggled his eyebrows and laughed as low and dirty as he could manage.

"Sekrit place. If I tell you, I'll have to kill you."

Lance snorted. "But you'll take me there? Isn't that kinda—backwards logic?"

"I could blindfold you?" Mentally he rolled his eyes. "Listen, it works in my head, okay? Don't be difficult, dude." He climbed to his feet, then reached a hand down to Lance, still sprawled where he'd landed when Chris tickled him. "C'mon."

Lance didn't release his hand until after he was standing, and they were at the patio door. Chris shivered happily at the press of warm fingers against his and wondered again about this odd courtship dance he and Lance seemed to do.

~~~~~

"So really, where're we going?"

The interstate was fairly empty of traffic at this hour, which was nice. They'd been on the road for a little over an hour, maybe longer, including a quick stop for gas and some sodas. They'd grabbed a couple of towels on the way out of the house, laughing and snorting when Chris tripped over Justin's shoes, and Lance banged the front door open too fast.

"I told you, I can't tell you. It's a seeeecret." He drew the last word out, then reached over and flicked Lance's ear. "I know you know what that means, Bass. Now hush it."

"You're such an ass sometimes." Lance rubbed his ear, then turned to look out the window. Chris fiddled with the radio until he found a station that wasn't too static-y, whose music he could tolerate. He hummed along in harmony while Lance stared at the passing landscape, everything painted ghostly white by the moonlight. Shadows chased across the freeway from time-to-time, when clouds drifted past, blocking the moon, and the wheels whined in counterpoint to the radio. It was almost soothing. "We forgot trunks," Lance said finally, breaking the silence.

"Don't need 'em." They'd passed the exits for Tampa a little while back, and Chris was looking now for the one he wanted.

"I'm not swimming in my underwear in public, man, even in the dark."

"Who said anything about underwear?" The exit became a four-lane road, and Chris turned toward the coast.

"Okay, I'm not swimming naked in public."

"What makes you think we're going to a public beach?"

"Where else would we go?" Lance turned to face him, frowning. Chris reached over and pinched his lower lip.

"Your face is gonna get wrinkly if you frown, dude." He grinned when Lance rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out. "Seriously. We're not going to a public beach, and you can swim in your underwear, your shorts, or in the buff if you want."

"Huh." A couple of turns, and the road became a quiet stretch of almost dark street, one lane each way. Chris watched Lance blink; from here they could see the sand glittering under the moonlight. If it were daylight, the water would be visible, the soft blue of the Gulf with white tips on the waves.

Chris turned again, this time onto a narrow, one lane drive. It'd been a while since he'd been down here, but he remembered it like it was yesterday. He wondered if Kelsey was still overseas, or back home.

He could see the house in the distance, windows dark against the night. Overseas, then. He parked the car at the end of the straightaway, before it curved into the driveway up to the house, then cut the engine and turned toward Lance, who frowned at him.

"Where the heck are we, Chris?"

"I met this guy – Kelsey – while I was in college. We had some classes together, and he was my lab partner. Party boy; he liked to play a lot. This is his folks' place – his, I guess, really. They stay overseas most of the time. I'm pretty sure he's over there now, too."

"And he just—lets you come here?"

Chris shrugged. "He told me if I wanted to use the beach, any time, I could. I don't have keys to the house, dude. Anyway. It's a private beach; not another soul for about a mile. Wanna swim?"

Lance nodded and opened his door, moving slowly. "Were you and he, um. Did y'all…." He trailed off, and Chris grinned, pretty sure if he could actually see Lance's face, it would be red.

"Nope," he said cheerfully, grabbing the towels from the backseat, along with the blanket he'd left in there after some picnic a few months ago. "He's a straight boy; loves the ladies. C'mon, Bass. I'll race ya to the beach." He took off at a dead run, Lance right behind him, making some weird noise that sounded like a cross between a growl and a laugh.

~~~~~

They played tag on the beach for a while, until both of them were winded and Lance was smiling again. They collapsed beside each other and watched the tide wash in slowly, lapping at the coolwarm sand. When Lance leaned into Chris it made his heart stutter happily a couple of times. He slid his fingers through Lance's and laced them together, shivering once when Lance scooted closer. His breath was warm and moist against Chris' mouth, and then his mouth was warm and moist against Chris', lips trembling just a little beneath soft, easy kisses before giving way and opening for a long, slow, deep kiss that Chris lost himself in.

He pulled back after a moment, wanting more but scared to press. Seventeen, he reminded himself. Barely. Plus, a good friend, someone who's hurting. He didn't want to take advantage. Shouldn't. Wouldn't. Wasn't going to—

"Hey." Lance touched his mouth with one finger and smiled at him. "I thought we were gonna swim?"

"Yeah." His voice sounded breathless. Kinda the way he felt. Breathless and giddy, and god, he wanted to kiss him again. "Yeah," he said again, and chanced a quick kiss to Lance's jaw before moving backward. "Let's swim."

He unlaced his shoes and kicked them off, then stood up, pulling his shirt over his head. He stopped then, hands hovering at his waistband, uncertain. Lance looked up and grinned. "You're gonna get nekkid, right?"

He grinned back, the awkward moment passing. "Um, yeah. You?"

"Yeah."

Chris really tried not to watch, but couldn't stop himself. So much pale, pale skin gleaming at him, exposed one piece of clothing at a time. He mentally kicked himself back into gear and jerked the buttons on his shorts open. The breeze was cool where it hit the sweat on his chest and back, and he shivered when he dropped his shorts. Beside him Lance paused to fold his shirt neatly, and Chris only barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. No matter what, Lance was still a dork. A loveable dork, yes, but still.

"Last one in's a rotten egg," Lance shouted, pushing past him. Chris blinked and realized while he'd been staring, Lance had finished undressing and streaked – literally – past him, ass practically shining in the dark.

"You suck!" He shouted back, kicking free of his shorts and sprinting toward the shore. Lance sent a wave of warm, salty water splashing toward him just as he hit the edge, and he dove toward him, laughing when they did a free-fall backward.

Salt water up his sinuses burned like a mother, but Chris couldn't be bothered to care, because when they broke above water again, he had a lot of warm, naked boy pressed tight against him, legs tangling with his. Chris was pretty sure he hadn't seen a smile that big on Lance's face since Christmas, either. "Guess you're rotten," Lance whispered into his ear, making his skin prickle. Warmth ghosted over his neck, his ear, his jaw, and Chris swallowed.

"Lance—"

"Mmm?" If it were light out, he'd be able to see how green the eyes blinking at him were. That was okay; he had the image burned into his brain. He could substitute just fine.

"Smile for me." He tasted the salt on Lance's lips – curved into a grin that he echoed – and then salt gave way to warm sweetness, the slick inside of Lance's mouth calling to him to come taste, tease, explore.

They tangled together in the water when Chris lost his footing and stumbled backward, Lance's body pressing him down into the water, down against the roughsoft jumble of sand and broken shells and smooth pebbles that made up the ocean floor. The contrast of cool silt and sand giving gently beneath him, and warm, solid weight on top of him, with flickers of water caressing him and flowing between them made every inch of his body tingle and feel alive. Chris growled softly and clutched Lance closer to him, licking away from his mouth and up and down the length of his throat, pausing to suck on choice spots, teeth grazing tender skin gently, then harder.

It was hard to tell if the low rumble moving through him was Lance or the ocean noises around them.

When he stroked one hand down the smooth expanse of back to cup Lance's ass, the rumbling grew louder, bubbling through his blood. The rumble became a moan, and then a growl, when he bit harder then sucked at the bite. He bit again when Lance tipped his head back, a hoarse whimper making heat flare in Chris' stomach, streaking straight down to his dick. Another bite made Lance jerk above him, and Chris wasn't surprised to feel the solid heat of Lance's erection pushing against his thigh. He rocked upward and Lance jerked again and kissed him, hard and hot and so hungry.

It was hot and cool and rough and soft, and Chris wanted to lose himself in the sensations completely; wanted to burrow into Lance and never come out. He wriggled upward, shivering at the way the water felt, sliding around him, between them, fluid fingers caressing his dick, his body. Lance bit at his lips, then worked his way downward, tongue and teeth making random patterns of heat against Chris' skin. He shuddered and opened his mouth to moan, growl, cry out—and got a mouth full of saltwater when a wave washed over them.

He sputtered and coughed until Lance shifted up, knees to either side of Chris' legs, helping him sit up. He grinned at Chris, and in spite of inhaling saltwater twice in a short time, Chris grinned back. "We need to take this party somewhere I'm not gonna drown, dude."

"You promised me swimming." Lance moved forward just a little; enough Chris could feel his heat, could see the droplets of water clinging to pale skin, dripping from the tips of spiky blond hair.

"You'd rather swim than make out?" He couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice, then snorted when he realized Lance was teasing him. "Dork." He got in a quick kiss, copping a feel at the same time, then slid out from under Lance. "C'mon. I got something to show you."

Lance made a sound somewhere between a snort and a giggle. "I don't think there's much to see out here, Chris." But he followed behind, kicking water toward Chris as he went.

"Yeah, but see, you gotta think outside the box. That's the problem with society today. No one can see the forest for the trees." He stopped at the piles of towels and clothes, and picked up the blanket he'd brought from his car. A quick snap unfurled it and Chris stepped gingerly to the edge and picked up his shirt and scrubbed at his feet before handing the shirt off to Lance. "Wipe your feet off, okay?"

It should've been awkward, standing there completely naked, still flushed with the kisses they'd shared. Hell, he was still mostly hard – as was Lance. And holy Jesus, yeah. He'd had a look at all the guys during this or that scuffle for the bathroom, or changing in tiny rooms at county fairs or wherever they were performing, but there was a difference between a quick locker room peek, and checking a guy out. Lance stood right in front of him, proudly, moving into the touch when Chris reached out and smoothed one hand down over his chest and belly to his groin.

"Ever done this before?" It was quieter up here, away from the water, and he dropped his voice consciously, wanting to keep things feeling…private.

"Made out? Or made out with a guy?" Lance smiled, a combination of silly grin and come-hither that made Chris feel hot all over. He curled his fingers gently around Lance's dick and stroked once.

"Either. Both." Another slow stroke, and Chris leaned in to lick at the salt drops clinging to Lance's collarbone. His skin was smooth beneath Chris' tongue.

"Yes." Lance's voice was low, throaty, and he pressed forward, arms curling up around Chris' neck. "Both. More. Please."

It was awkward, moving downward while kissing, but Chris didn't want to stop, didn't want to let go. Never let go, he thought distantly, and then Lance kissed him and he stopped thinking altogether.

Down was good, though, and he sighed when his butt hit the blanket, and he could stretch back and out and pull Lance over on top of him. "This is good," he said softly, nuzzling at the underside of Lance's jaw.

"Yeah." Lance tilted his head for the nuzzle, then kissed Chris, slow and easy, licking at first, then biting gently. Chris was ready for more when Lance pressed harder; he opened easily, sliding his hands up and down Lance's back, feeling muscles shifting and moving beneath his fingertips. The kisses were soft, then harder, just tasting at first. Getting to know each other, learning what felt good.

It made Chris tremble inside, all that wet, slick heat. His lips felt swollen, raw. His skin…his whole body…ached. He had to do—something. Move. Shift. Touch. He stroked up and down the groove of Lance's back, feeling the bumps of his backbone, down to the slope of his ass. When he brushed his fingers teasingly between, just skimming the surface, Lance growled and pressed up, then down, deepening their kiss like he was trying to crawl inside. Chris welcomed it.

They broke apart gasping, and in the thin moonlight Chris could see dilated eyes, flushed cheeks and a swollen, wet mouth. He looked delicious, and Chris wanted to devour him. He gripped Lance's hips and wiggled upward. "Lance. Jesus."

"Really—god. Yes. Chris." He moved into the motion, rocking, and Chris groaned against his mouth. Heat. So hot. He could feel Lance, hard against him, panting harshly against his neck, moist heat that seared into him.

"Faster—" He gritted out before kissing Lance again, tongue slicking deep inside, tasting. He could feel sticky damp patches growing between them. Each one sparked more heat inside, hunger swirling hot and fast through him. They weren't even kissing now, more trying to swallow the other one down, lips and teeth biting and sucking. Chris rolled a little and hooked one leg up over Lance's, bracing them together. Fire burned through him in a whitehot glow, and he could feel it gathering in his belly, spreading outward in streaks. He heard Lance cry out, low and rough, and he stiffened, shuddering as he came, sticky wet heat pooling between them.

Lance shuddered against him, groaning, and Chris kissed him again, rubbing slowly, gently. His skin felt tight and hot now, and too small, but God, it felt good, too.

Kisses brought them down, just brushes of mouths, gentle licks over lips bitten and sore. When they could breathe easily again, Chris fitted his mouth to Lance's and licked in slowly, tasted once, then pulled back, rolling them to their sides. He smiled, feeling kind of buzzed. Everything was just a bit fuzzy around the edges. "Wow, dude."

He was pretty sure the noise Lance made was a snort. "Heh. Yeah. God." The air was decidedly cooler against sticky, sweaty skin when Lance shifted to stretch. Chris watched unabashedly, curling his fingers into his palms to keep from touching again. It was a losing battle though, and he slid just his fingertips down the center of Lance's chest and over his belly. The skin there was sticky, tight with drying come.

"Let's swim." He looked back up at Lance. "Rinse off, then go home. It's late, and I just." He shook his head and grinned sheepishly. "I'm feeling mellow, dude. I wanna curl up on the couch, or in bed with you and just. I dunno. Maybe do this again?"

Lance laughed. "So that's what it takes, huh? An orgasm or two and you're blissed out?"

"Yup." Chris nodded. "That's about it."

"I'll have to keep that in mind."

"You do that." He flicked Lance gently between the eyes. "I'm gonna kiss you once more, and then we should do our skinny-dipping thing. It'd probably be good if we got home before Lynn gets up."

"Probably." Lance scooted closer and shivered when Chris slid his fingers through spiky, salt-sticky hair. "Chris."

"Yeah?" His mouth hovered over Lance's; he could feel their breath mingling, warm and moist.

"I—" He closed his eyes and touched Chris' mouth, so gently. It resonated through Chris, a soft ache, a need, that vibrated into every corner.

"Gotcha, baby," he whispered, kissing back. "Right here," he added, touching his chest. "Don't ever forget you're wanted. Or needed."

He felt Lance's smile against his chest when he curled in against him.

Things were going to be okay. Everything would work out. He felt it like he felt Lance. Inside, a part of him. Part of his soul.

~fin~