Everyone knew that Justin was the worst in bed. Not the worst ever, because he was still damn hot and really eager, and had his moments, like that time when Joey walked into his hotel room and Justin threw himself at him, already naked, already hard, and wrapped his legs around Joey's waist. And Lance still closed his eyes when he talked about fucking Justin for the first time. But generally, Justin sucked in bed.

"And not in a good way," Chris said. Joey nodded and sipped his beer. Justin was off getting his picture taken without his shirt on for, like, the fifth time this month, so the conversation might have been inspired in part by envy, Joey thought, but it was true. Justin was a sweet sweet guy, but just. Not good.

"He rushes," Lance complained. Of all of them, Lance hated rushing the most. Even Lance's kisses were thorough and leisurely, which was part of what made Lance sexy and part of what made him annoying. Lance didn't know the meaning of "quickie." "He always wants to jump right to the fucking."

"God, the fucking!" JC groaned. "That's the worst!"

"Okay, which part?" Joey asked. "The quickness or the jerkiness?"

"Quickness," Chris said, right as Lance said

"Jerkiness," squinching his face up into an expression of disgust.

"I just hate all of it," JC answered. "I fell like the second he gets it in there, I'm, like, nothing. Just a hole. He might as well be jerking off." He sighed.

"Oh, hey," Chris said. He climbed over Joey's legs and hooked his arm around JC's neck. "That's not true."

"No, I know." JC sighed again, but he couldn't stay mad with Chris clambering over him, kissing on his cheeks, his neck, his mouth.

Lance smiled at them. "He's just so ..."

"Bad," Joey supplied. He had to look away from them because JC had tipped back on the couch and Chris' hands were sliding up under his shirt while they kissed. JC had the sweetest stomach, flat and hard and slightly hairy. He giggled when it was licked, like a perverted Pillsbury dough boy. "Someone should say something."

Chris laughed into JC's mouth. "Yeah, right!" he said, looking back over his shoulder. "I can so see that. I say 'hey, Jup, you're not so hot in the sack,' and then, after his head pops from fury, we provide some helpful hints. Simple."

"Well, you have to be fucking subtle about it, Kirkpatrick," Joey said, swatting at his ass. "You can't just go blurting--"

"We could show him," Lance said. He set his bottle down on the table and studied his fingernails. Joey could tell he was trying not to smile.

"Whoa," JC breathed, scrambling into a sitting position. "You mean like ..."

Lance nodded a little. He was blushing.

"Dude," Chris said, sitting back on his heels. "I fucking love you. Seriously. Like, true love."

"Thanks." Lance did smile then, a sleek happy smile.

"So that's what we're gonna do then?" JC asked. "All of us, right?"

Joey looked around at them, Lance's flushed cheeks, Chris' small hand, and the three inches of JC's stomach where his shirt was pulled up. He smiled.

"Hell, yeah," he said.

Justin showed up just in time, in Joey's opinion. They were in his room waiting on the king sized bed, and JC had put his head on Lance's thigh. Lance had started stroking his hair, threading his fingers through it over and over again. JC was a sucker for people touching his hair: it had only taken a minute before he'd lifted his chin and arched his back slightly, his breath roughening. Chris hovered over him, licking his throat occasionally, and Joey found his hand on JC's knee gliding slowly upward, when they heard the click of the door handle turning.

"Hey, um," Justin said, eyeing them suspiciously. He kicked the door shut with one foot, not even looking behind him.

"How was the photo shoot?" Lance asked.

Joey got up off the bed and headed to the door, sliding the deadbolt home. He smiled when Justin turned to look at him.

"Um, fine. What are you guys doing here?"

"Playin' bingo," Chris said. "What's it look like?"

"It looks like you were getting ready to freak JC on my bed," Justin said.

Joey came up close, until he could smell the antiseptic smell of the makeup remover on Justin's face. "We're gonna freak you," he said.

"You know, if you want," JC added, sitting up.

"Right, yeah." Chris nodded. "Only if you want to. So, you want to?"

"You're gonna fuck me?" Justin asked. He seemed dazed to Joey, like he wasn't sure he was awake.

"Bingo!" Chris said.

Joey kissed him first, sliding his arms around Justin's waist and guiding him gently toward the bed. Justin fell into it easily enough, his arms coming up and around Joey's neck, but when he tried to push his tongue into Joey's mouth like he always did, turning the kiss into some weird seventh grade version of porn, Joey pulled back until their lips were barely touching and Justin's eyes were liquid with confusion.

"What?" he asked. "What, Joey?"

"Just relax," Joey murmured against his mouth, and moved in again. There was no tongue in the kiss until Joey licked out, touching his gently to Justin's. "Slow," he whispered. Justin nodded like he understood, and held on when Joey tilted him back, leveraging him so that they could kiss and Joey could unbutton his pants at the same time. His arms were tight, clinging around Joey's neck. It was a nice feeling.

He let go, though, when his knees hit the mattress, and Joey let him fall, landing in the vee of Lance's legs, collapsing against his chest.

"Hey there," Lance drawled, and Joey saw the shudder ripple through Justin. Chris climbed up over them both, his knees on the outside of Justin's hips.

"'sup, Jup?" he asked, bracing his hands on either side of Justin's elbows. "How ya doin'?"

"Um," Justin said, uncertain, and it was all just too fucking cute for Joey. He sprawled on the bed on the outside of Lance's thigh and leaned over it and kissed Justin again, the new slow drunken kisses with lots of lip and very little tongue. Justin relaxed against his mouth, closing his eyes, and Joey knew they were gonna get to do whatever they wanted. Justin had surrendered.

"Oh, that's nice," JC said. He was petting Justin's neck, his shoulder, kissing after his fingers. Chris still perched over Justin, doing something Joey couldn't see, but after a second, Justin's sighs into Joey's mouth turned into gasps and Justin clutched at Joey's arm and Joey thought "head," because Chris was fucking fabulous at head.

"uh, oh, oh," Justin moaned into Joey's mouth. "Oh, god. God."

"Don't you fucking make him come right away, Kirkpatrick," Lance growled near Joey's ear.

There was a wet sound, and when Joey looked up, Chris was making an innocent face, his lips red and swollen. Justin's cock poked through his open fly, rising and falling with Justin's harsh breath.

"What?" Chris said. "I have a talent."

"Exercise your talent on Joey for a while," Lance said. "JC and I have plans."

"Hey," Joey protested, wondering who had died and left Lance in charge. "I have plans, too, you know."

"Are you turning down head?" Chris asked. "Because that's a little hurtful, if you are, Joey."

"No, no, I." He sighed. There wasn't anyway to say anything else, not without admitting that he wanted to keep kissing Justin, to keep Justin focused on him.

"That's what I like to hear." Chris beamed at him and pulled at his jeans. He stood up and took his jeans off, peeling his underwear down with them. He heard Lance's voice urging Justin "to turn over," and shivered a little, but when he turned around he still almost fell over.

Lance had Justin on his knees and was helping him unzip his jeans. JC was behind Justin, pulling Justin's own pants down until he was bare, JC's hands curving appreciatively over his ass.

"Oh wow," Joey said.

"You said it," Chris breathed. "Get the fuck over here."

Chris was definitely the best at head, Joey thought, wrapping his hands in the soft material of the bedspread and fighting to keep from thrusting into Chris' mouth. Chris' small hands on squeezed his thighs. He was perfect, steady and deep and rhythmic, and Joey fucking loved him, even though he could see Justin licking erratically at Lance's cock in between gasps of air. His mouth was wet and open and Joey wanted it on him. He closed his eyes and touched Chris' hair.

He opened them again just a second later, when Justin's gasps of breath changed to shaky cries. He was pressed against Lance's abdomen, panting on his cock while Lance rubbed fingers over his short short hair. His arms shook.

JC. Of all of them, only JC would do that, would put his tongue there, and Joey'd never let him because it was weird and gross maybe, but it was also, oh god, Justin was shaking, his legs spread, his ass in the air, and his face was pressed against Lance's stomach, and he was begging "please, please," and suddenly Chris' mouth tightened on Joey's cock and he swallowed again and again and Joey was coming, orgasm dragged from the base of his spine, his brain, his eyes on Justin, on Justin's mouth.

"You okay?" Chris asked, climbing up and flopping down on top of him. Chris was still dressed, the seam of his jeans pressing against Joey's soft cock.

"Mmm," Joey mumbled. He turned until he could see Justin, calmer now but still breathing harsh through his nose, licking at Lance's belly. JC wasn't on the bed: Joey could hear him rummaging around in the bathroom, which was why Justin was coherent enough to wink when he caught Joey's eye.

"That's my boy." Chris slapped his flank and hoisted himself to his feet, stripping off his clothes.

"Who's idea was this?" Justin mumbled, after Lance hooked him under the arms and hauled him up to kiss him. He said it between kisses, lolling against Lance's chest like a ragdoll.

Joey ran a hand up Justin's bare thigh. "Mine," he said.

"Liar," Chris snorted. "It was Lance's idea." He climbed back on the bed, snuggling up to Lance's other side.

"Oh, Lance. I love Lance," Justin murmured. Lance smiled through his kisses. Joey pinched Justin's thigh gently enough that he wouldn't really notice. Justin had long long legs, thinner than the rest of him, still knobby with growth even though his shoulders had filled out. Joey slid his hand from Justin's ankle bone to his hip and back down again.

"You're gonna love me a lot more in a minute," he said, rolling Justin away from Joey and onto his back. Joey felt like pushing Lance, or like saying something at least, but then he noticed JC coming out of the bathroom, a tube of something in his hand, and forgot about saying anything.

"Grab his arm," Lance told Joey, and Joey did, pulling Justin's arm gently over his head. Justin met his eyes.

"It's okay, Justin," Joey whispered. He smiled, unable to suppress it. JC. And Justin. Chris was already chuckling, peeling his own pants off.

JC crawled up onto the end of the bed, running his hands over Justin's legs. "You're gonna like this," he promised, cupping Justin's knee.

"I am?" Justin looked slightly nervous. Lance had his other arm up against the pillows above his head. He was trailing his fingers over the smooth pale flesh of Justin's tricep, making him shake.

"You are, baby," Joey said.

"You are," JC said. He slid his hands up Justin's ribs and over his chest. "A lot."

JC kissed him for a while, probably for Lance's sake. Lance loved watching, especially JC because JC was so incredibly perfect, all muscle and skin and sweet sharp lines, and him on top of Justin, licking at his neck. Joey thought people would pay money to see this. Hell, he would have paid money to see this, Justin's back arching under JC's weight, his mouth open, his eyes closed, JC's hands slipping beneath him, cradling the base of his spine, pulling him close.

"Oh, baby," Lance sighed. He kissed the inside of Justin's elbow. Chris was down at the end of the bed, doing something that became obvious when JC gasped against Justin's open mouth.

"No, that's--"he panted. "That's good."

Chris flopped down right in front of Lance, his cheek resting on the mattress near Justin's ribs. "Do it, then," he said.

Joey felt himself draw a breath and hold it. This was going to be so good.

JC raised himself up on his knees and looked down at Justin. Like this, naked, his loose curly hair flopping in his face, JC looked like some sort of Greek sculpture. Justin stared up at him. Joey stared at them both, their classical erotic tableau. He wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't, not when they were so perfect, not when JC was up on his hands and knees, pushing his hips backwards, forcing Justin into him, one sweaty inch at a time. Justin's arm jerked against Joey's hand and his back bowed and he made a high moan in his throat. JC gasped. For a second they seemed frozen like that, JC with his hands flat on Justin's equally flat stomach, both of them motionless except for their harsh breaths, and then they were moving, JC was moving, riding Justin like a wave, the big muscles in his thighs flexing under Joey's palm.

"Oh," Chris said. Lance had let go of Justin's arm with one hand and it was somewhere else, obscured by JC and Justin between them, but Joey could guess. Chris' eyes slid closed.

JC was a tease in the best way. He and Joey didn't do it very often, because Joey liked it a little rough and JC was the most romantic. Joey always felt a little guilty afterwards, even though JC always seemed perfectly happy, sprawled and smiling on the bed, trailing a finger over Joey's ribs after he'd rolled off. When they did do it, it was painfully hot, JC squirming over him, sweaty and laughing, and fucking him slowly until Joey thought he was going to burst. JC fucked by inches. It was the best kind of torture.

Justin's hands scrabbled at the pillow case. His eyes were locked on JC, his face. He seemed stunned. Joey smiled. He was hard again, his erection bumping erratically against JC's leg, but he was too caught up in watching the steady motion, JC's cock slapping lightly against Justin's stomach, the slick sounds of their action, even to bring himself off. JC leaned down, breathing on Justin's neck. Slowed down.

"Oh," Justin said. "Oh, oh god, god, god," and then he was incoherent, his words changed to breathy moans, his hips jerking erratically despite JC's steady movements. Joey found himself breathing in time with Justin's eager thrusts, his fingers tight around Justin's wrist until the pulsing stopped and it was just Justin, his breath sounding raw in his throat, his eyes closed, JC slumped over him, whispering against his neck.

There was silence in Joey's head for a minute after that, nothing but the darkness behind his eyes, and the smooth hot skin of Justin's shoulder against his lips, and the tickle of JC's hair against his own arm, the one he'd curved over Justin's chest without even thinking about it. Then he could hear their breathing, Justin's, JC's, and then he became aware of Chris' desperate soft murmurs, and Lance's low chuckle, and by the time he opened his eyes, JC was being hauled off Justin, Chris' hands on his hips.

"C'mere, c'mere," Chris murmured, kissing JC's shoulder blade, the back of his neck, anything he could get his mouth on. JC was Chris' favorite, and from the delighted smile on JC's face, Joey thought maybe the feeling was mutual.

Justin landed on top of him with a heavy slap.

"Hey!" Justin said, smiling. He was wet and hot and Joey was never so happy to see anyone in his life.

"Hey." Joey smiled back, running his hands up and down Justin's slick back. "What's a nice boy like you doin' in a joint like this?"

Justin twined his arms around Joey's neck and smiled up at him. They were sealed together with sweat from chest to thigh: Joey could feel the soft weight of Justin's cock against his. "You come here often?" he asked.

Joey grinned. "If I said you had a beautiful body would you hold it against me?"

"Hold it against me," Lance growled, climbing onto Justin's back, leaning down over his shoulder to give Joey a friendly kiss. "You ready?" he purred into Justin's ear.

Justin groaned something incoherent in response, his body crushed against Joey's.

"That's my boy," Joey murmured against Justin's ear, and Justin groaned again.

"What about you?" Lance asked. It took a second before Joey realized Lance was talking to him, his pale eyes locked on Joey's.

"This is as ready as I get," Joey said, and caught Justin's mouth with his as Lance bumped up against him.

His cock stirred, the slick glide of Justin on top of him making it move. He ran his hands over Justin's shoulder blades, down his spine and up again feeling the loose loop of them slack around his neck. "Hang on," he whispered, against the hot shell of Justin's ear. Justin tucked his hands around Joey's shoulders obediently.

Joey felt all of it: the lift of Justin's hips as Lance positioned him, the slight resistance to Lance's pressure, the sudden loosening when Justin relaxed and let Lance inside accompanied by Justin's breathy moan in his ear.

Justin's cock had been soft against his own, a gentle weight, but Joey felt it move as Lance began to move, holding Justin in place with hands on his hips. "Ohhh," Justin sighed. Over his shoulder, Joey could see Lance, hair flopping onto his forehead, damp with sweat. He was watching himself, Joey could tell, and the thought of that, of seeing that ... Joey moaned.

"Oh, god, Joey," Justin panted, clutching at Joey's neck. He rocked in time with Lance's thrusts, his cock slipping and skidding in the sweat on Joey's belly. He felt thin and trembly under Joey's hands, on top of his body; to Joey, Justin felt like he was barely hanging on.

Lance sped up again, leaning forward, bracing himself on the mattress, brushing his thumbs intimately against Joey's sides. Joey glanced up and there were Lance's pretty green eyes, staring knowingly into his. If he hadn't already been in just about the most compromising position possible already, Joey thought he might have blushed, but there was no point, not after this. It wasn't like Lance hadn't known already. When Justin panted out Joey's name again, Lance smiled.

"Justin," Joey murmured, right into his ear. "Justin." He squeezed Justin's thin body to his and hung on as Lance sped up yet again. Justin's moans grew in his ear, punctuating the thrusts.

"Justin, baby," Joey said, pressing his hips upward, increasing the friction, feeling the thin filaments of his own orgasm thread their way up his stomach. He spread his legs a little, spreading Justin's as well, and Lance fell forward, shaking, all pretense of patience gone.

"Fuck, Justin," Lance growled, his mouth inches from Joey's, his breath hot on Joey's lips. "You ... J"

Justin's moans slid up in pitch, and then he was there, clutching Joey's neck, crying Joey's name in some incoherent song and Joey felt a hot rush through the sweat on his stomach.

"Joey. ... Joey," he whimpered. Lance roared and thrust three or four more times before falling limp across Justin's back. His weight felt like heaven to Joey, crushing Justin to him.

"Mmmm," Joey said. He wiped the sweat back from Justin's forehead, tangled his hand in Lance's hair. Lance lifted his head from Justin's shoulder blade for a second, licked at the fingers, then put it back down.

"I fuckin' love you," Justin murmured against Joey's neck.

Joey chuckled. He knew what Justin meant.

He left them asleep in a heap on the rumpled bedclothes. JC'd woken up a bit when the mattress shifted, but Joey'd stroked his sweaty hair and whispered "shower" and JC had smiled and closed his eyes.

He did take a shower, quickly, noticing the bruises on his throat where Lance had kissed him while he toweled off in front of the mirror. Lance and his hickeys. Joey smiled, shaking his head, feeling the inevitable melancholy settle over his shoulders. He loved it, loved all of them, but there was something not quite satisfying about this, something he didn't want to think about too much.

Joey pulled on new boxers and sat on the edge of his own neatly made bed. He thought of them all wrapped together on Justin's bed, thought of going back and curling himself around one of them, Justin maybe, and--

Someone knocked.

He looked through the peephole first, expecting some fan who'd managed to sneak past security or one of the bodyguards themselves, but it wasn't Sexual Chocolate. It was Justin, in just his boxers, arms wrapped around his own waist.

"Jeez!" Joey said, glad they were required to rent out the whole floor. He hated to think of what the tabloids would do with pictures of Justin Timberlake in the hallway in his underwear. Chris' underwear, actually, Joey thought, noticing the smiley faces on the boxers.

"Oh, Just," he said. "I'm kind of tired and everything, so--"

"Hey." Justin shuffled past him. "Can I sleep in here?" He was already on the bed, tugging at the covers with one hand. Even his newly short hair looked rumpled and tired. He tipped over onto Joey's pillow, nestled into it and closed his eyes.

"Um, sure." Joey locked the door and clicked off the lights. He climbed into the bed, and shifted around, settling finally for lying on his back next to Justin's heat. The second he stopped moving, though, Justin was there, head tucked against his shoulder, one arm around his chest, leg draped over his thigh. His chest rose and fell against Joey's. Joey smiled up into the dark. "What's wrong with your room?" he asked, sliding his hand up Justin's bare thigh, around his hip, over his ribs. Justin settled more closely against him and sighed.

"Mmmm." Justin nuzzled into Joey's neck, planting soft kisses. "You're not there," he sighed, and fell asleep.