It wasn’t something Chris would notice. Not when he was dragging Joey from the toy room half an hour before the show, leading him to a small closet off the main hallway. Not when he shoved Joey up against the door and knelt before him. Not when he had Joey’s cock in his mouth while he ran warm, quick hands up and down Joey’s thighs. Not when Joey crumpled, spent, on the ground in front of him.

It wasn’t something JC would notice. Not when he came to Joey’s hotel room, mumbling verses and lyrics, half asleep but half awake. Not when he hummed chords against the back of Joey’s neck as he thrust into Joey, tracing notes against his spine. Not when Joey’s voice joined his own, not in song but in a strangled cry.

It wasn’t something Justin would notice either. Not when Joey’s broad hands spanned his naked waist, tracing up and down his sides as Joey bent him over the makeup counter. Not when Joey’s hand moved around to pump his cock as Joey slammed into him from behind. Not when he clenched suddenly, making Joey scream as he came.

It was something Joey noticed. When Chris pressed against him in the toy room and Lance’s eyes followed them as Chris dragged him away. When Lance averted his eyes as JC left Joey’s hotel room in the morning. When Lance interrupted Joey and Justin, backed stumbling from the room.

He didn’t go to Lance, didn’t want Lance to think Joey felt something like pity. He waited until Lance came to him one afternoon on the bus. Then Joey noticed the trembling, needy hands reaching out to touch him, stroke him as Lance pulled at his t-shirt. Noticed the slight shake in the whispered litany, “Let me, let me.”

Joey leaned back, let the hands trace over him, let the wet lips follow. Let those hands remove his jeans, his boxers, and run over the revealed skin. Let the lips follow and engulf his erection in a warm mouth. Let himself come when the sensation proved too much.

He felt Lance pull away and rest his head on Joey’s waist, felt Lance’s hands clench against his thighs. He pulled Lance up and wrapped his arms around the shaking man. “Why?” he asked.

“Tired of being left out. Is everyone else…”

Joey shrugged. “We all do.”

Lance kept his head down and Joey felt shaky breaths stirring the hair on his chest. “Why?” Lance asked.

“We’re only doing it until something better comes along.”

“I want to, with you. Not with them.”

“Lance, listen to me.” Joey pulled Lance’s head up, forced the man to meet his eyes. “I think you’re my something better.”

He noticed that Lance’s body, held stiff and rigid against his, melted, fit to his in a way the others never had, never could. He noticed the tears shining in green eyes as Lance wrapped around him and whispered, “I know you’re mine.”