nsync in black and white

Fiction by Pen . . . . . not real, made up, purely intended for entertainment


Written for fanfic100 challenge, prompt 'Dinner'

"O-kay. Perfect. That's it."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"No, no. That was great. Just what I wanted."

"But I've only done it three times. I thought you'd have me here for hours."

"Yeah, I kinda thought so too, but... I can't think of anything you didn't do, so..."

A pause. "So. Yeah. Okay. Mind if we try it one more time?"

JC shrugged. "Sure," he said into the communicating mike. "When you're ready."

* * *

"That was good, you know, at the studio. Earlier."

"Yeah," agreed Lance. "I've missed that. Done a bit here and there, but it was nice. Having you at the controls."

"I meant—you sang well. But yeah, us, recording."

"Well enough for you to buy me dinner." Lance smirked knowingly. This was not an inexpensive restaurant. But JC did not begrudge payment for the kind of food—and wine—they served here.

"You should do more," he said. "Singing, I mean."

"Mmm. I do it, when someone asks me. Doesn't come up very often." Lance, digging in to his swordfish steak, didn't seem worried.

"Guess I'll just have to write a bass harmony into a few more tracks, then."

"Any time."

"I always..." JC began tentatively. "I always thought your voice was the sexiest."

Lance grinned.

"I mean, there was a reason we called it the porn voice, right?"

"God, I hated that. That Barry White stuff, right back at the beginning. How embarrassing was that?"

"No, man, you did fine with it. But I was thinking more of the singing, the way you're always there, rock-solid, and that tone, man, it's just..." he gestured helplessly. A waiter materialized at his elbow, as waiters in exclusive French restaurants are wont to do. JC waved him away. "It's just, so sexy." He blushed.

"I always liked your singing best," Lance replied calmly. "Don't tell Justin."

"Well, thanks, man."

They were silent for a while, reverently finishing their entrées and superb Cabernet Sauvignon. The waiter rematerialized, cleared plates, offered dessert, and reappeared instead with coffee and Armagnac.

"Um, Lance?" JC fiddled with his spoon. "When I said sexy, I kinda meant, um, not just the singing."

"You been checking out my ass, Chasez?"

"No! Well, actually yes. But I didn't mean that. Not just that." He could feel his cheeks turning pink.

Lance chuckled merrily. "You playing matchmaker, JC? Who d'you have in mind? "

"Well. Uh. Me."

"You telling me I'm so damn sexy even my straight friends want me?" Lance rolled his eyes, shook his head, and drank brandy.

"Um, yes? And, um, possibly not straight. Completely. I think."

Lance stared at him. "No way. No way! All those years of I wear pink because gender roles are outdated, stereotypical and unnecessary and I'm perfectly confident in my masculinity, plus I don't know how many women, and now you're not straight?"

"I think maybe, yes. Possibly. It's not like my relationships with women have been exactly... I thought, if you, maybe you might, um, help me decide?"

"Years of picking up girls by simply existing have gone to your head, JC. That's no kind of line."

"No line, Lance, I'm serious. I know it must seem, it's just that I think you—I've been thinking about you. A lot. And wondering, because you're really, um, hot and I thought maybe it would be good if we—"

"Is this why you asked me to sing for you? So you could proposition me? No wonder you settled for four takes!"

"No, no! Of course not! Sit down, Lance, please! Of course I didn't mean that, of course I wanted your voice on my album. That's—it's just, we're here, together, and so I thought, I thought I could ask you to think about it. Please?"

Lance eased back into his seat with that unfathomable Mona Lisa smile on his lips. "All right then, so tell me what you have in mind."

"I—I—well, sex, I guess. It's kinda new territory for me—no, don't look at me like that, man, you know what I mean!"

Lance stopped laughing eventually. "I do, at that. You'd better pay the bill then, hadn't you."

An unwelcome possibility occurred to JC. "You, uh, you are, are you interested in me? I mean, I just sorta assumed but—do you actually want to go to bed with me?"

"Don't be silly, JC."


"That'd be a yes. Maybe even a Hell, yes. You see our waiter anywhere?"



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