So no, he wasn't fucking old enough to drink, but that was no fucking reason not to let him into the goddamned club. He was cute, he was famous, he would have put that fucking club in the papers the next day, and none of that had swayed the fucking Neanderthal at the door.

"Sorry, sir," the Neanderthal had said.

"But my friends are in there!"

The Neanderthal shook his head. "Sorry."

"I don't think you understand what you're doing." It was a long shot, really, but Justin, furious and heated, thought he had nothing to lose.

"I think you should go, sir." And Justin had glared into the man's impassive face and stormed back to the bus. And here he sat. Pissed. Pissed as hell, because he had known this was going to happen. He knew he should have gone in with Joey and JC and the rest of them, because when they were together, he always got in. He wasn't some fucking kid, he was Justin. He was Somebody. He scowled into the dark. Fucking asshole.

He was still glowering when the hydraulic door whooshed open.

"Hey."

"Hey, Lance."

"Didn't get in, huh?"

Justin sighed. "I knew I wouldn't! I told JC I wouldn't, but you all wouldn't wait!"

Lance shut the door behind him and came forward, sitting down on the couch. "Sorry about that. You want to go now?"

Justin shook his head. "No."

"C'mon, J. I could get you in, easy."

Justin shook his head again. "I kind of pulled rank at the door."

Lance tipped his head back and laughed, exposing his throat. "'Do you know who I am?" he said, gasping for air. "'I'm JUSTIN!'"

Justin smiled despite himself.

"I told him he was making a mistake."

That set Lance off again, howling with laughter. "'You're making a BIG MISTAKE, mister!'" He giggled.

"It's not funny," Justin said. It was, though. He tried to keep his own laughter bottled up in his throat and ended up snorting.

"Okay," Lance agreed. Then he snickered. "No, you're right." He sat up straight and folded his hands in his lap. "It's not funny at all."

"Fucker," Justin murmured.

"Yep." Lance smiled. "So, you want me to hang out with you?"

"You mind?"

"Nope. What do you wanna do?"

Justin sighed. "I wanted to get ripped off my ass and dance like an idiot, but it doesn't look like there's any chance of that."

"Not so fast, my young friend." Lance shook a finger at him. "I might have the cure for all what ails you."

"Your fucking English accent ails me, Bass," Justin said.

"No, seriously." Lance pushed up off the couch and started opening up cupboards.

"What are you doing?"

"Makin' you somethin', man. Wait."

Justin crossed his arms across his chest and waited. He shifted on the seat. Sighed. Drummed his fingers on his knees. Tapped his foot. Waited some more.

"What the fuck, Lance!" he said, finally. Lance just looked over his shoulder and laughed.

"Keep your pants on, Justin." He turned around with two glasses in his hands. Justin leaned forward and took one. It was definitely liquor, vodka from the smell of it, but it was kind of greenish looking and it also smelled like fruit.

"What is this?" Justin asked, looking up at Lance.

He smiled. "Try it."

Justin sipped. It was vodka, for sure, but it was also fruity and smooth in a way vodka had never been for Justin before. The drink slid down his throat, tasting like Hawaii looked. He grinned at Lance, who had sat down and was sipping his own drink.

"Wow."

Lance smiled.

"No, Lance, I mean it. Wow. What the hell is this!"

"Well, it's not exactly the way it's supposed to be, we don't have any cranberry juice or any raspberry liquor--"

"Lance--"

"It's called Sex on the Beach."

Justin nodded, gazing into his glass. "Sex on the Beach. Why hasn't anyone ever given me this before?"

Lance shrugged. "You're underage."

"Fuck off." Justin laughed. "This is really good."

"Thanks." They drank in silence for a little while. When Justin's glass was empty, Lance stood up, re-filled it, and brought it back.

"Thanks," Justin said. "You don't have to stay, man."

"Nah, it's alright. It wasn't my scene."

"No girls in cowboy hats?"

"Exactly." Lance smiled. He was toothy when he smiled, Justin thought. It was because Lance didn't smile a whole lot: when he did it seemed like his mouth was full of teeth.

Ironically, Lance was probably one of the happiest guys he knew. Not happy like Joey, who always beamed at everyone, or like Chris, who went crazy with happiness and then collapsed into black moods--Lance was just generally, steadily, basically happy. It meant he didn't smile too much, not real Lance smiles full of teeth and sunshine, but it was nice when he did.

"Man, it would have been so my scene." Justin sighed.

"Yep. Probably."

Justin tipped his head back against the window. "It sucks being young."

"I remember." Lance patted his forearm. "Hey, it's not all bad, though. You got a new drink out of it."

"Yeah."

There was silence for a long minute. Lance shifted on his seat, and Justin could feel the words buzzing around his head.

"I--I could show you somethin', if you wanted," Lance said, slowly.

Justin turned his head to the side, eyeing his friend. "Something like what?"

"There's." Lance sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "You drink it a special way."

"Really?" Justin sat up. "Cool. Show me."

"Um, okay. Okay." Lance nodded. "Tilt your head back again, like, like you were before."

Justin did. "How'm I gonna drink anything like this?"

"Hang on," Lance said. He was moving a little on the couch and Justin was suddenly aware that his throat was exposed. He felt vulnerable, even though it was only Lance. Only Lance.

There was more movement, and Lance was above him, looming over him.

"Hey, um," Justin said, and then Lance's hands were on his face and Lance's mouth was on his, and he could taste the drink, sweet and melony and warm from Lance and Justin was swallowing, unable to breathe, one hand clutching at Lance's shoulder, at his shirt. And then the liquor was gone and he was still clutching at Lance's shirt, pushing up off the couch, his other arm coming around Lance's neck pulling him down, down.

And then Lance was tugging back, bracing himself on the back of the couch, his eyes shining down into Justin's, his face grave.

"--the hottest thing in four countries--" Chris' voice said. Joey laughed, and JC said something that Justin didn't hear because he was busy pushing away from Lance, scooting to the edge of the couch, squeezing his cup so tight he almost dumped it in his lap.

"Well, what have we here?" Chris asked, flopping down into Lance's lap and gazing up at him with mock adoration. "It's Mis-tuh Lance Bass! We were wondering where y'all got to, sugar."

Lance tapped him on the forehead. "I came back to keep Justin company."

Chris arched backward, looking at Justin upside down. "Whatcha drinking?"

"Lance made it for me."

"A man of many talents," JC said, stripping off his jacket.

"Lemme try?" Joey snagged the cup from Justin's hand, and took a sip. "Whoooee! Hey guys, Sex on the Beach."

"Really?" JC took the cup and sipped. "Sure enough."

"Guys," Lance said. "C'mon."

"Hey, Justin," Chris said. He was still sprawled across Lance's lap, his upside-down open eyed gaze pinning Justin to the wall. Chris would see, Justin knew. Chris always knew things.

"What?"

"He teach you how to drink it?"

Justin blushed, and could not answer.