“Did you get the cake?” Lance yelled down from their bedroom.
“Yes, I got it yesterday, how many times are you going to ask me?” Just shouted back at him, busy slicing tomato for their sandwiches.
“Until we actually give it to him and I don’t have to worry about it any more,” Lance yelled, fastening the button of his jeans and sliding his feet into his sandals.
“Thank god it’s Saturday,” Justin muttered under his breath, only to grin when Lance shouted down the stairs, “I heard that!”
“Bullshit!”
Lance padded down to the kitchen and leaned against the counter, swiping one of the BLTs Justin had carefully prepared. He got in a bite before Justin glared at him pointedly. Lance just shrugged and bumped Justin’s shoulder with his own, knocking him slightly off kilter and hiding his smile at the crease Justin developed in his brow.
“So it’s finally happening, huh?” Justin said, trying to ignore Lance’s minor baiting and turning back to his sandwiches. “Joey’s getting married.”
“Only took ten years of dating, seven years of engagement, and three inter-band relationships to get him there,” Lance said through a mouthful of sandwich.
“And another beautiful goddaughter for one Mr. Lance Bass,” Justin reminded him. Lance gave him a sunny smile.
“Don’t forget we’re babysitting all next week when he and Kelly take off to the Keys,” Lance said before taking another bite.
“Again, my dear Bass, how could I forget when you remind me every other minute? Geez, you’d think you were my publicist or something.”
“Nah, she only calls every morning. I’m around 24/7.”
Justin whapped him with a towel. When the tomatoes were arranged to red perfection on his plate, he maneouverd around Lance to sit in front of the coutner, focussing his attention on his plate.
Lance finished his sandwich and slid behind Justin, running the palms of his hands along Justin’s back, making him shift and move to give Lance a better vantage point. He let his fingers slide up Justin’s sides, light but not tickling, and bent his head to smell Justin’s hair and rub his face gently against the back of Justin’s neck. “How many songs, now?” he asked.
Justin considered a minute before replying. “About twenty. Four of those are workable. It’s harder, working without producers. But I like it better. There’s more me in these songs.”
Lance nodded, threading his arms around Justin’s waist. “You working at the studio here, or downtown?”
“Here, I think, until I need the control boards downtown. It’s the control thing again, plus I don’t have to listen to the bitching from the company. It means I can breathe a little more.”
Lance nodded again, his hands exploring the ridges of Justin’s body, making him shiver a little, though he kept on eating his sandwich intrepidly.
“We have to leave in an hour,” Lance murmured, his fingers rubbing gently against Justin’s nipple.
Justin carefully put down his sandwich. “We can be late,” he said, turning around.