It was old, his thing for Dani. Old enough that memories of times before became confused with times after. Old enough that it became more of an old habit than a relationship based on any deeper feeling.

If he really tried, Chris could remember when he was just so thrilled that she wanted him back. Before he got used to it, before the shock wore off and complacency settled in.

But he wasn't one to question the status quo. They weren't great, but they weren't bad either, and he didn't feel the need to change things.

Which is why her decision to break up seemed to come so suddenly, so out of the blue. Habit was so ingrained that the protest rose before he had a chance to think about it.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"About what, Chris?"

"This, now. What do I do now?"

"What you've been doing. We're an old habit, but we're easy to break."

She was wrong though. They weren't easy to break. Any time they got close to LA, Chris would start to dial her number; less out of a desire to talk to her than because it felt like something he was supposed to be doing.

When he called to talk business it was hard not to say, "I love you" as he hung up. Not because he felt anything more than mild affection now, for a long time, but because the conversation didn't feel finished. It had no closure, though it ended with "goodbye" on both sides.

He did miss her. Especially at the awards shows he was forced to attend and find dates for. He and Dani used to make fun of people, their outfits, their dates. Most of the show would pass by in a blur of snarky Joan-Riveresque comments. The last time, he went with one of their dancers, a little tiny girl named Monica. She looked pretty and made good small talk in the limo, but upon arrival she was so enthralled with being at an awards show that she couldn't talk. Insulting Madonna's outfit or J-Lo's hairdo seemed blasphemous to her and he eventually stopped trying.

He realized, finally, that it was like that song. "You don't know what you got till it's gone." It was only after this realization that he really began to mourn the end of a two- year relationship.

He stopped eating regular meals, instead consuming entire bags of puffy cheetos in one sitting. He stopped talking to the guys, instead choosing to hole himself in his house, with the company of his dogs.

After the third brush off in as many days, Joey grew concerned, and called Justin.

"Man, you know what this is, Joe?" Joey could hear the beeps and clicks of a game in the background.

"What? Am I interrupting?"

"Nah. But this is further proof that we cannot live outside each other's pockets."

Joey laughed.

"So what up?"

Joey sighed into the phone. "You mean, what's down?"

"He still having issues? I don't know man, that was weird. He was all normal and then…" The clicks were coming closer together now, and Joey guessed that Justin had gotten to the end of the level, and was trying to beat a boss.

"Yeah, but it's been what? A month? Why now?" There wasn't any answer, and then Justin started yelling. "Justin?"

"WHAT?"

Joey winced, and held the phone away from his ear. "Problem, man?"

Justin growled. "No. Fine. What did you say?"

"When?"

"Before I died, Joey. Work wit' me."

"I said, 'why now?'"

"Post traumatic stress."

"'Scuse me?"

"Like with natural disasters and stuff. He didn't actually realize anything was wrong until after the fact."

"Where do you pull this stuff from?"

"A&E special. I get cable."

Joey could see the smug grin on Justin's face. "Right."

"Like, okay. Remember after you broke up with Bryan?"

Joey rolled his eyes, though the gesture was wasted on his television screen. "Yeah."

"You guys were over a week before you even acted like you cared. You remember that?"

"Not really. It's pretty sketchy."

Justin 'hmmed' into the phone. "Okay. When Kelly got pregnant, you didn't start freaking out about it until two weeks later."

"Okay, that I remember."

"It's like that. It just takes awhile sometimes."

It was an old thing, his thing for Chris. He couldn't remember exactly when it happened, because he can't remember a time that his band mate didn't affect him in some way.

Joey wasn't one to moon, to admire from afar, to suffer quietly, so everyone but Chris knew and Joey almost hoped that one of them would accidentally spill it sometime. The idea of actually telling Chris terrified him. Hiding his feelings had become old habit.

It wasn't that he didn't want Chris to know. But he was pretty certain that Chris wouldn't want to know.

Joey had never tried to hide his sexuality. He had a boyfriend when they started, and had gone through several since. In between, he'd continued to pick up women in the clubs and had an 'understanding' with Kelly, a friend of his from before the group. Most of the time the other guys had helped cover for him in front of fans and management.

Bryan stayed around the longest, went through the most to be with him. Joey hooked up with him because Bryan reminded him of Chris: short, dark, mildly insane.

But Bryan went too deep, too quickly. He fell so fast and Joey didn't follow. He couldn't, even though he'd tried, and he hated that he would eventually have to hurt Bryan. And then Bryan became a habit, Joey's affection for him, to hide his affection for Chris.

Bryan, who was smarter than he looked, figured it out and broke things off, gently telling Joey to "stop lying to yourself, and to him. It isn't fair to either of you."

Chris eventually got bored suffering quietly and showed up on Joey's doorstep in the middle of the night. He ducked under the arm Joey used to prop himself in the doorway and dumped the backpack he'd slung over his shoulder on his way to the couch.

Grabbing the remote, Chris channel surfed while Joey disappeared upstairs. He returned with a pillow and a blanket from one of the guest bedrooms and curled up on the opposite end of the couch from Chris, leaving him room if that's what he needed.

An hour into the all night "Undressed" marathon on MTV, Chris got up and snuggled into Joey's side, his head on Joey's back and one arm curled around his waist. He pulled half the blanket around himself and sighed deeply, settling in.

"Is this okay?" he asked, voice muffled against Joey's shirt.

"Yeah, its fine. You want to talk about anything?"

"Not now. Later maybe."

Joey covered the hand around his waist with his own. "Sure. I'm here."

Goosebumps raised on Joey's neck as Chris's breath brushed across it. "I know."

Justin was right, they couldn't exist separately, and when Joey found himself having to wash and fold laundry later that week, he called Justin to entertain him. He missed the sound of Justin's voice sometimes.

"So, he at your place now?"

And sometimes, the ghetto grammar. "Yeah."

"How long he been there?"

"Your grammar sucks." Joey took the full basket of clothes from the laundry room over to the kitchen table so he could fold.

"You didn't complain last week."

"I didn't care last week."

"So why you care this week?"

"I just… never mind." He pulled out the first couple of shirts and folded them up, then went on a hunt for matching socks.

"Okay, okay. How long HAS he been there?"

"A week." Found it.

"He been talking any?"

Joey sighed, resigned, any thoughts of educating the Kid abandoned. "No. I think he's doing better, but I can't tell." The last shirt in the basket was Chris's. He held it up for awhile, just looking at it, wondering at the idiosyncrasy of finding Chris's laundry in with his.

"You doin' alright man?"

"Huh?" Justin's question threw him out of contemplation of the shirt.

"I said, 'you doin' alright?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, freak. You."

"Why… oh. Yeah, I'm fine." Joey folded the shirt and added it to the stack of his own.

"Right."

"The eye rolling gesture is wasted over the phone."

"Shut up."

Busta and Korea came over to "visit" after that first night, with assurances that they were both fully house- trained.

Later that week Chris brought over a bag of his clothes, though he still borrowed Joey's t-shirts without warning or shame.

Joey realized, when he found Chris wrestling his turn- tables into a corner of Joey's living room, that Chris was moving in without saying he was moving in. Joey let him.

The touching continued too. When they sat on the sofa to watch movies, Chris curled himself around Joey, sprawled himself next to Joey, spread himself out over Joey. When Joey stood in the kitchen, waiting for something or other to come out of the microwave or oven, Chris would come in and stand next to him, leaning on him, arms around his waist or neck or maybe not touching Joey at all, but with a head on his shoulder.

It was unusual because it was Chris. Chris who was never very free with his personal space or with his body. Chris who would poke and prod and tickle, but never sit on anyone's lap or hug them, in the middle of the day, just because.

JC came over later the next week. In his never- ending quest to bring culture to his band mates, he always came bearing gifts of some sort. Last week it had been Enya's latest cd, the week before he'd brought over a dish of Chilean sea bass that Joey took one bite of and then stuffed down the disposal, washing the taste out of his mouth with a beer. This week he brought a movie. No one really remembered the title of it, because it had been edited off during dubbing.

"JC, dude, what IS this shit?" Joey squinted at the screen, trying to read white subtitles over a white background.

"Bobbie gave it to me, I'm just passing it on to you. It's kind of good, you just have to watch the whole thing."

"Right, but what language are they speaking?"

"French, Joey."

"Oh."

"Where's Chris?"

"Huh? What's that one say?"

JC turned around just in time to miss the questioned subtitle. "I don't know, man."

Joey looked up from the TV. "Did you ask me a question?"

"Yeah." JC giggled. "Where's Chris?"

"Store."

JC's eyes bugged. "The store? Like… shopping?"

"Uh huh."

"Like… shopping for food?"

Joey's shoulders hunched. "Yeah. Shopping. Why is that news?"

"Joey. We're talking about the man who thinks it's easier to eat dog food than go get food for himself. And now he's shopping?"

"Yeah, well, he finished off the pop tarts. The fucker."

"And he just went?"

"Yes, he went. Shut up."

JC threw up his hands. "Fine."

Justin called the next day.

"JC says he's shopping?"

"Yeah. Shut up." Joey hung up.

Their first kiss happened not long after that. Joey was in the kitchen, leaning against the sink and staring at the timer for the oven when he felt heat against his side, and two arms snaking around his waist.

"What're you staring at?" Chris's voice said into his ear.

Joey nodded his head toward the oven.

"Why?"

"Waiting for my frozen pizza to be unfrozen."

"Oh." Chris raised his head from Joey's shoulder, and stared at him for a bit. Joey's eyes remained focused on the timer. "Joey?"

"What?"

"Look at me."

The minute Joey turned his head, Chris surged upwards against Joey's body, and kissed his lips. It was short, a peck even, not anything that should have made Joey's heart flutter the way it did, or make his hands clammy. "What was that?"

"Is that okay?"

Joey shrugged. It was more than okay, really. "Yeah, fine."

Chris stretched and kissed him again, the same short, sweet kiss, and then moved away toward the door.

"Chris?" Joey's question caught him in the doorway.

Chris turned around to answer. "Yeah?"

"You want to talk about anything?"

"Later maybe."

Chris continued touching Joey, curling around him, sitting on him. Only now, light kisses were also involved. Joey could never tell when or where they were coming from, as Chris was as spontaneous with them as with anything else. Which is how Lance found out.

Lance came over one afternoon to show Joey a new artist he was thinking of signing to his new label. She was a country artist and as Joey was the only one of his band mates that didn't immediately cringe at the sound of a twangy guitar, Lance came to him for an opinion.

Joey put the tape in and sat on his couch, listening. "What's her name?" he asked at the end of the short demo.

"Meredith Edwards."

"Where she from?"

Lance answered all of Joey's questions without checking his folder on her. He'd memorized everything, down to where she went to elementary school and what her mother's maiden name was. After awhile Joey stopped asking serious questions and began testing Lance's ability to remember useless information about people.

"What was she wearing when she came in to meet with you for the first time?"

"Blue skirt suit, white blouse. Pearls."

"Necklace or earrings?"

"Both, and a bracelet."

"Watch?"

"No… Oh hey, Chris," Lance said over Joey's shoulder.

Joey turned just as he felt a warm hand touch his shoulder. Moments later a warm, solid weight fell into his lap. "Um, hey, Chris."

Chris smiled, right before leaning forward and kissing Joey. Right there, on the couch, in front of Lance. It was short and sweet and involved no tongue until the end, when Chris swiped his across Joey's closed lips before pulling back.

"Hey, Lance!" he said as he pushed himself off Joey's lap and headed toward the kitchen.

Joey sat still and motionless a moment longer, until Lance's voice broke his trance.

"Wasn't that your shirt?"

Lance told JC and Justin, and Justin called Joey the next day.

"So, are you guys…" Justin trailed off suggestively.

Joey knew what they thought. They thought he and Chris had hooked up, that Joey told Chris and Chris reciprocated and they were finally acting on something. "What? Are we what?"

Justin sighed loudly into the phone. "Don't make me say it, Fatone."

"Don't make me guess, Timberlake."

Justin exploded. "Jesus, are you guys fucking or what?"

"No. We're not. Not that it's your business."

"So what's with the lip action?"

Joey paused a moment before answering. "I don't know, J. We haven't talked about anything. And I just don't know."

"You haven't talked?"

"No."

"Well why the hell not?"

"I don't know… it's just… it's complicated."

"Complicated my ass."

"Drop it."

"I'm sorry, man." Justin sounded contrite.

"It'll be okay, you know? As soon as I figure out what's going on. I'll be fine."

"Yeah man. I hope so."

Joey wasn't sure what he should do now. He almost didn't want to say anything, because he really didn't want the touching to stop. Chris was happy now, and Joey was happy, and Joey didn't want that to stop either.

And Chris obviously wasn't trying to hide anything, or he'd never have done anything in front of Lance. Joey wasn't sure what Chris was trying to do or say; Chris still wouldn't talk to him.

The touching continued, almost grew more intense in that Chris did it almost all the time. He would conform himself to Joey's posture, no matter what he was doing or how he was sitting. And once he was firmly established, his lips always found Joey's. The kisses were small, slow, and frequent.

So Joey wanted to know what was going on, but he wasn't eager to ask.

Chris was out in the pool, splashing people that weren't there, swimming half a lap every now and then. Once he grew tired of playing by himself, he grabbed a floating lounge and spread himself out on it.

Joey came out to join him, sat on the edge of the pool, dangling his feet in.

Chris, having heard him come out, said "hey, Joe" without raising his head or opening his eyes.

"Hey." Joey leaned back on his arms and closed his eyes.

Chris trailed his fingers in the water, moving his arms about to spin the float in circles. "I like your pool."

"You have one of your own."

"Yeah, but I don't have floaties."

Joey opened his eyes to lazily splash water in Chris's direction before closing them again. "You could buy some." He heard some splashing from Chris's direction, but nothing hit him, so he didn't bother looking.

"I'd rather use yours."

"Okay." A smooth, cool, wet hand was laid on Joey's thigh, and his eyes flew open to find Chris standing right in front of him, pressed against the side of the pool between Joey's legs. Drops of water made tiny rivers down Chris's torso, pooling in the crease where his skin met Joey's. He brought his other hand up to rest on Joey's waist. Chris leaned in, stopping with an inch of air between them. Joey felt Chris's words on his lips. "Joey?"

Joey swallowed heavily. "What?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Hasn't stopped you so far."

Chris's hands clutched into Joey's skin, short, blunt nails scraping. "I need to know."

"Damn it." Joey closed the space between them, answering any question Chris might have had with the crush of his lips on Chris's. For the first time, Joey initiated contact and for the first time, Joey raised his hands to Chris's face, holding him in place.

Lips opened for the first time and tongues met, sliding over each other in a hot, slick caress. Joey knew, in the back of his mind, in a place completely separate from this experience, that this was stepping over a line, crossing a boundary untouched by previous innocent touching.

He didn't care.

Chris pulled back a little, gulping air, and rested his forehead against Joey's. "Is this okay?"

Joey leaned back a bit, tried to look into Chris's eyes, but Chris kept them down. "Yeah. It's okay."

Chris nodded, and pulled away from Joey. Joey grabbed his hand before he could pull away completely. "You want to talk about anything?"

Chris had a wistful smile. "Later maybe."

Joey sighed, nodded, and let him go.

Later that evening, Joey had an intense craving for normalcy, and decided to crawl back into Justin's pocket.

"J?"

"Supe! Man, I'm on my way out."

"Oh, um… okay. Never mind."

Justin heard something in Joey's voice which prompted him to ask "you alright?"

"No, no, I'm not alright." Joey breathed out abruptly, happy to finally admit it.

"You want me to come over?"

Justin being there meant Chris might find out what they were talking about. "No, it's alright. I'm really fine, just confused. Really really confused. Go out, have fun. I'll call you later." He hung up on Justin's protests.

Now, when Chris crawled into his lap, hands didn't necessarily stay outside clothes, or above the waist. Joey nearly jumped off the couch the first time he felt Chris's small hand press down into his pants. But he allowed it, didn't do anything to stop it, and eventually relaxed enough to enjoy the touch. For several weeks he walked around with an almost continual hard on, until he finally came, abruptly, one night. After that, Chris didn't worry about stopping, and Joey didn't worry about making him. Another boundary had been crossed, another line in the sand drawn. Joey still wasn't sure quite how far this would go, and sometimes, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Joey didn't initiate anymore. After his acceptance, by the pool, of their progression to that next level of intensity, Chris seemed content to continue to come to him.

Joey was sitting on the couch, watching High Fidelity for the millionth time. Chris slipped onto the couch, pressing himself against Joey's side, whispering along with the movie in Joey's ear.

"Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable, or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?"

Joey giggled at the feel of Chris's breath tickling his ear. "What does that make us? We sing pop music. We should be suicidal by now."

Chris began kissing along Joey's jaw. "Who says we aren't?"

Joey dropped the remote and tilted his head to the side. "I don't want to die."

"You're in denial," Chris breathed into his ear as he caught Joey's lobe between his teeth. Joey's mouth dropped open at the sensation. Chris's hand strayed down the front of Joey's pants, undoing buttons, pulling down the zipper as he went. When Joey's erection was finally free, Chris wrapped a small hand around it, circling and pumping the turgid flesh.

Joey's head dropped to the back of the couch, the movie all but forgotten, still playing in the background. Chris's head came around to the front of Joey's neck, and he nibbled on Joey's exposed Adam's apple, not very prominent, but big enough to warrant a few small nips on his way.

Joey whimpered as Chris's hand left his cock, but it was only so Chris could remove Joey's shirt. Once gone, Chris's hand returned to Joey's erection, and his mouth moved onto Joey's chest. His lips picked at a nipple as his hand slipped inside Joey's boxers, touching naked skin for the first time. Joey's breath caught in his throat and he thrust his hips up into Chris's hand.

Chris tore his lips away from Joey's chest to ask, "Is this okay?"

Joey's breath came in harsh rasps as he moaned "yes" before pulling Chris back to him. Chris trailed wet kisses down Joey's chest, stopping at his belly button, almost lost in the fold of Joey's body. He pulled Joey's hips out a bit so he could dip his tongue into the small indention. He lightly bit the soft skin right under his belly button, then ran his tongue over the spot.

Joey's hands moved to Chris's hair, clutching small handfuls, not pulling away, not pulling toward, just holding. Chris's mouth finally reached its destination, taking Joey's cock into his mouth.

"Chrissss… goddamn."

Chris tumbled himself off the couch, so he was kneeling in front of Joey. He pulled Joey's pants and boxers off over his bare feet, and scooted Joey's ass over the edge of the couch, so his torso was spread along the seat. Joey was naked and spread before him. One hand stayed at the base of Joey's cock, pumping up and down. He raised the other hand to Joey's face, and put two fingers into Joey's open mouth. Joey's lips automatically closed around them, sucking on them, running his tongue over them. When the fingers were wet enough, Chris took them away from Joey's mouth, and moved his hand back around to Joey's ass. He ran his tongue in one long, slow lick up Joey's cock, and pushed one finger into Joey.

Joey groaned, and his hands clenching in Chris's hair. His back arched up off the couch cushions, and his heels dug into the floor.

Chris moved his lips back around Joey's cock, alternately sucking and pumping up and down. He added another finger to the one already up inside. Joey arched again into Chris's mouth. The combination of Chris's fingers and tongue drove him to the edge, and he came in a convulsive rush, which Chris almost choked on before swallowing. Chris let Joey's cock fall from his lips, and pulled his fingers out before sitting back on his heels, watching Joey catch his breath.

Joey finally raised his head and caught Chris's eye. "Chris…"

Chris stood and held out a hand. "You think we're done yet?" Joey smirked and took Chris's hand, allowing himself to be pulled off the couch. He followed Chris upstairs to his own bedroom.

Joey stood at the window, staring out when Chris woke up. He came to consciousness slowly, and when he was fully aware he looked around to find Joey. "Joey?"

Joey didn't turn from the window. "What?"

"What's wrong?"

"What is this? Are you ready to talk to me yet? Or do you want to wait for 'later?'" The last word dripped with sarcasm.

"No. We can talk now."

Joey turned away from the window to face Chris. "Why me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why me? Why did you show up at my door?"

Chris looked honestly confused. "Why wouldn't I?"

Joey narrowed his eyes at Chris. "Are you gay?"

There was a long pause. Joey couldn't tell what Chris was thinking; his face was impassive. "Chris?"

"I don't know? Before you get all pissed, listen. Okay? Just give me a minute, okay?"

Joey nodded.

"Do you know why she broke up with… of course you don't. I didn't tell you." Listening to Chris was a very schizophrenic experience. "We got bored. We got used to each other and we got bored. But we didn't say anything. I got so sick of her by the end. She does this… thing. With her hair? Where she twirls it around her finger. And she does it ALL THE TIME."

"You said you thought it was cute."

"But not all the time! She does it all the time! It was so annoying. And I don't know. As much as I resented everything, it was easier than saying anything. And then she stopped it. Broke up with me."

Chris scooted to the end of the bed and wrapped himself in the sheet.

"And, I don't know. It was hard? I know it sucked. I hadn't loved her in awhile, but it still sucked. And I thought, 'I want to see Joey.' So I came over here. And I was free from her, and looking, really looking, for the first time in years. And I saw you."

A small smile played across Chris's face.

"And you were perfect. And I know you, and I know the annoying things you do, but they don't bother me. I don't mind them. I can live with them. And I love you. I've always loved you. The same way I loved all of them, only now… lately… I'm in love with you. And… I wanted to touch you, sit next to you, kiss you, fuck you." That last was said with a suggestive smirk.

"And, I don't know. If that makes me gay, then I guess I am. And I don't care, because I want to do it again."

Joey cleared his throat. "Which part?"

Chris laughed lightly. "All of it."

Joey crossed the room, dropped to his knees in front of Chris, pressing close between Chris's parted knees. A smile broke his face in halves, and he caught his breath as Chris reached out a hand to trace it with a look of wonder on his face.

"What?"

Chris eyes were still focused on Joey's mouth. "You have the most wonderful smile."

Joey's grin widened to an impossible span, and Chris's lips spread in a grin of their own while he slipped his hands around Joey's shoulders. Joey's hands came up to circle Chris's waist.

Chris narrowed his eyes in a mockery of Joey's earlier glare. "Do you love me?"

Joey laughed, pressed himself against Chris's chest. "You freak. I've loved you forever."

"How long is forever?" Chris spoke into Joey's hair.

"I can't even begin to remember. At least since I met you. Maybe before."

Chris tightened his arms around Joey. "I've got you." And it wouldn't grow old, because they already knew. And if it did become a habit, it would be the best possible habit, like brushing your teeth or saying, "I love you" in the middle of the day, just because.