He didn't know when he had first realized he was in love. Contrary to popular belief, love didn't descend upon Justin in a blaze of glory, illuminating the object of his affection and plunking them both on a pedestal which fans everywhere would then try, in vain, to knock them off of. No, love had crept upon him, catching him unawares. One day he had looked up in the limo, and Joey had been framed by light while he slept against the window, a hint of drool forming at the corner of his lips. A few days later he watched the video for Gone on TRL, and found himself mentally yelling at Herb Ritts for spending too much time focused on him. And a few weeks later, he'd known.

He'd expected to get used to it. He had with Britney, which was his only previous example of love, so he hadn't realized that love didn't follow a pattern. That his breath would hitch at the sight of Joey napping on the leopard divan, Brianna asleep on his chest. That occasionally he wouldn't chew his food completely, because Joey looked just right. That for the first few weeks, everything would be tinted with rose, and every gesture Joey made would be magnified, good or bad, until he couldn't tell if there was any significance in it whatsoever. He expected that. He just didn't expect that it would *stay* that way.

Perhaps it was because Britney had quickly started flirting with him, smiling shyly, look up from under her lashes, and basically advertising that she was interested. Britney had fallen for his charms almost from the beginning. Joey, on the other hand, had known him when he was so horny all the time that he would jerk off in the 5 man bus because he couldn't wait to get to whatever crappy hotel Lou had booked for them. If he had any charms to speak of, Joey ignored them in favor of noogies and wet willies and generally treating Justin like he was a younger brother.

It was driving him crazy.

He had gotten on the 2-man because Lance and Chris were engaged in one of their business marathons, where they spent about 70 hours straight on the phone with people, yelling, and being more productive because they were working in each other's company. JC was already asleep when they boarded the buses, so Justin was sent over to keep Joey and Steve company. Only it turned out Steve had flown back to Brooklyn to go to some event Janine was throwing that all the close family (which, apparently, included third cousins four times removed) in the area was attending. And Joey, who couldn't be there, was talking with Kelly, who had taken Brianna. Which left Justin on the couch, watching Joey, and trying to pretend he was amused by The Learning Channel.

"What the hell are you watching?" Joey asked when he got off the phone.

"Trading Spaces. Jamie - that's the designer - is making a huge mistake. Shiela wanted contemporary, and that furniture is practically Victorian."

"O-kay," Joey said, "time to change the channel."

"But you haven't seen the shaggy mauve rug that Karen bought!"

"No," Joey said, "I suppose I haven't." He sat down next to Justin on the couch. Justin tried to scoot over, because really the couch wasn't as big as on the 3-man, and Joey was not JC, who defined thin, or Chris, who was just *small*. Joey had presence. But Joey was more interested in wrestling the remote away from Justin than respecting personal space, and Justin was suddenly overwhelmed. He dropped the remote, and pressed as far into the corner of the couch as he could.

"What's wrong, man?"

"Nothing," Justin said, and winced. His voice was nothing if not hoarse. He cleared his throat.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Justin said, and that was better. He sounded a little high, but certainly had the right tonal quality to convey anything other than "I am incredibly attracted to you."

"Okay," Joey said. "Hey, look. Pride & Prejudice."

Sometime between when Elizabeth went sight-seeing with her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner and Lydia ran off with Wickham, Joey stretched and slid his arm behind Justin's head. Justin felt like he was melting. He tried to slouch normally, like a guy, with his legs spread a bit and his heart firmly encased in his chest and his lungs breathing at a normal rate, but it just wasn't working. Around the time when Lydia and Wickham arrived home, he realized that he had slumped into Joey. Joey's arm was firmly around him now, holding him in place against Joey's chest. His head was - nestled, was the only word he could think of - against Joey's neck. His heart was somewhere around his feet. And, of course, as soon as he noticed, he stopped remembering how to breathe.

"Take in air," he told himself mentally. "That's right. Now, release it - no, let it go. Back out the mouth."

"What's wrong, Jup?" Joey asked. He had turned his head, and almost caressed Justin's ear with the question. Justin jumped.

"N-nothing."

"Right."

He pulled away, and looked at Joey. What was he supposed to say? "Sorry. I just hadn't quite realized that taking Lance's place meant, you know, actually *living* with you, and really being in such close proximity to you is doing things to my body that you probably wouldn't want to hear about, even from a woman with double D breasts?" No, that wouldn't quite pass.

Maybe "Whenever I see you, it's like. This mosaic. You're so incredibly complex, and beautiful, and I'm in love with you, you fucker, why the Hell can't you just *see* that, instead of treating me like a 16-year-old goofball who wouldn't know a blow job if it bit him on the ass?" Probably not.

"I just."

"Yes?"

"Nothing," Justin said. "I'm tired." And he got up, and wandered to the bunk. At least there, as he lay on his back staring at the ceiling and thinking of Joey and wondering if he still had it in him to beat off in public, or if it was too embarrassing and he should just wait for the hotel, at least there he wasn't distracted by the warmth of Joey's arm along his shoulders and the heat of Joey's breath in his ear. And Elizabeth's pain at thinking Darcy would never want her.

Then Joey pushed the curtain aside and sat next to him.

"Tired, huh J?"

"Yes. Go away. I'm sleeping."

"Couldn't even take your shoes off, you're so tired," Joey said. He picked up Justin's left foot, and started untying the laces.

"Joey-"

Joey slid one shoe off gently, and started on the other.

"So tired you couldn't even sit next to me for another 10 minutes to watch the movie end," Joey said, and peeled off Justin's socks.

"Don't," Justin gasped.

"Don't what, J? Because really, I'm at a loss here. You spend weeks smiling shyly at me, and gazing up from under your lashes whenever I look at you, and generally flirting as much as you can-"

"Joe-"

"And then," Joey said, and his fingers had moved to Justin's belt, "when I *finally* get Lance to switch places and send Steve packing, and it's just you and me, you can hardly stand to be near me."

"I, ah."

"What, Justin? Either you love me, or you've been playing me for the past month and a half. What is it?" Joey's hands unzipped Justin's fly, and it was all Justin could do to answer, "Um, the first one."

"Okay then," Joey said, and kissed him.

And maybe Justin was wrong, and love did come blazing up inside of him, catching him unawares, because when he woke up the next day, wrapped in Joey's arms, it was nothing like anything he'd ever felt with Britney.

And the pedestal was kind of comfy, as long as he had Joey up there with him.
story index