By Ian McDuff

This, although an entry in the ‘SweetKaos / Basez Songbook,’ is not, this time, an entry in the Slash Across America challenge. Its setting is not of the essence.

By the way. I know that everyone in the slash community – at least the RPS / Boyband slash community – understands ‘SweetKaos,’ as a pairing shorthand. I can’t say, though, that I particularly like the term, and so, on the model of ‘Basez,’ I’ve come to refer to Howie / Nick fics as ‘Darter.’ So … when you see that neologism, translate accordingly.

This Songbook chart was dropped in my lap by the plot-bunny / slash gods when the press reported that a new teeny-oriented marketing company has managed to get both the Bassmaster and D’s Nick-ay on board. No, I’m not kidding:

http://www.agcgold.com/news/020627.html.

Well, you can see that was irresistible.

For purposes of Songbook shorts (and these pretty much alone), I’ve given up pretending these aren’t in some sense songfics, although I frankly have never cared for songfics as they are usually written. Still, Facts is Facts. In any event, the soundtrack cut for this one – you really need to be a beach music fan, and a total prep – is You’re the Boss, You’re the Best, as performed by the Coastline Band. (And no, it’s not even remotely like any other song of the same name – e.g., Elvis’s, &c, &c.) And trust me, it is possible to shag – in the American sense – while reading.

‘Dude….’

Oh, Gawd, James Lance Bass thought. His lover had reverted, regressed, to being ‘Clarence “Wipeout” Adams.’ That was never good.

Josh – JC to the world, but to his James, in their special world-just-for-two, purely Josh – Josh looked at James, wide-eyed, and again half-whispered a stunned, ‘Dude.’

‘Now, sugarpie –’

‘Is this – Meredith – Hamhock? Hamhock? Cologne? J- ad jingles? Ad jingles?’

Incoherence from Josh was even more of a Very Bad Sign than his falling into his mouse-eared surfer-persona. James winced, and tried to address Josh’s abbreviated worries in order.

‘Darlin’. I told you true when I told you it was Mer’s decision to cut the ties, not mine. I also meant it when I said I agreed with her, and went her one better. Not only was it the right choice for her, a-findin’ new management: fact was, I was draggin’ her down, on account of frankly ain’t nobody was takin’ me serious.’

Josh bridled. No one, James included, was allowed to run James down: not if Josh had any say in it. And when James started country-boying it, it was Not a Good Thing.

James cut him off. ‘Now, hon, don’t, I know you’re fixin’ to up and tell me otherwise, and it’s right sweet of you, but let’s face facts. Problem with FreeLance has always been – look, ev’body respects my family once they deal with ’em and all, but they didn’t have any track record with this sort of thing goin’ in, and my bein’ the front man only raised questions. Even folks as might give me the benefit of the doubt, far as my knowin’ my ass from a hole in the ground, had to wonder if the company its own self could be anything serious when I was runnin’ it like a hobby, puttin’ not only ’N Sync but Happy Place and my space trip and what-all ahead of it. No – but it’s how it has to’ve looked to anybody outside. They had a right to wonder who was mindin’ the store.

‘Difference with Timebeat and 2Live is, they’ve got other managers in already, folks as have a rep and a record and all. It won’t be seen as just another of my stunts.’

‘But –’

‘Hon, listen. All right? Now, as far as Nick’s bein’ involved – and you really need to stop callin’ him “Hamhock,” ain’t like we ain’t talked ’bout that a couple hunnert times – you need to calm your cute ass down, sugar. It’ll be a good business decision. Numbers’re there, it’ll he’p with the IPO. I get along fine with Nick.’

‘He. But. He–’

‘And it’s over and done with. D and I had us a long talk, t’other day, and he’s high behind this. Matter of fact, he really wants Nick to do this, thinks it would be good for him, and for the both of them.’

Josh sputtered, hurt. ‘Y- you talked to D and Nick about this and I’m just now finding out?’

James shot him a patient look. ‘Love, where have you been for the past ten days, not countin’ rollin’ into bed damn near too tired even to kiss me and staggerin’ out of bed ever’ mornin’?’

Josh blushed. ‘I finished three songs, though,’ he muttered, petulantly. It was unfair, James reflected, that Josh could be so adorable when he was being unreasonable.

‘Honeybunch –’ James was laying on the magnolias-and-moonlight awfully thick – ‘one of the things done kept us good this long’s been our agreement. Unless someone’s dyin’ or at least bleedin’ awful bad, I don’t interrupt you when you’re workin’, and same way back. ’S what I did this time. Same token, them folks needed an answer, and I had to move on it. We okay on that?’

Josh nodded, still pouting. Cutely.

‘Joshy, babe. Nick ain’t as slow as you like to think. No, now, don’t pooch out your lip like that at me, you know well as I do ’at you think he’s dumber’n a stump and thick as two short planks. Well, he ain’t. Not by a long chalk. D and I reckon as how this will give him some confidence the which he needs a right smart of – mainly on account of how ever’one in his life from Jane to Kevin to even you, darlin’, has treated him all his life like he’s dumb as a mud fence. Boy didn’t git where he is, and put together a boat-race team to boot – even if it is them damn stinkpots – bein’ stupid.’

Josh was positively embarrassed now, head downcast. He lifted it only reluctantly, and met James’s gleaming jade eyes, only when his love took him in his strong arms and held him.

‘And as for the ad jingles…. You damn’ well know I know how you feel ’bout that. You cain’t hardly at all think for a red-hot minute I’d allow your work and your talent to be whored out for that, now do you?’

Josh shook his head, wild locks tumbling.

‘We all right then, darlin’?’

Josh tried to find his voice and failed, so he did the only sensible thing. He showed James just how all right they were with a passionate, greedy kiss.

‘Nick? Baby, you have to eat something. You can’t go in there all hollow.’ D was being as sweet and patient as he knew how, which was saying a lot.

Nick made a retching sound. No way could he hold down even a plain bagel. He said as much, and more, at length.

‘Nicky.’ Only Howie could possibly get by with that. ‘Sweetheart. You’re going to knock ’em dead.’

‘God,’ Nick whined, panicky. ‘Ten minutes – no, fuck, five – five minutes they’ll figure out how stupid I am. They’ll laugh at me, I just know it –’

‘Nickolas Gene Carter-Dorough, stop shitting me. And stop bullshitting yourself. You are going to go in there and knock their socks off. By the time you’re done with them, they will be at your feet.’

‘Yeah, rolling around on the boardroom carpet laughing to where they piss their six-hundred dollar suits.’

‘Nick.’

‘I can’t do this, D. I can’t! Jesus, this is going to be – I’ll be a laughing stork – D, I can’t face this without you.’

As ever, D managed to correct his love without making it even noticeable. ‘No one will find you a laughingstock, babe. And you’re not going in there all alone. Ja- Lance will be there too, right beside you.’

‘Oh, God, like that won’t just make me look dumber. There’ll be Hollywood Bass, Mogul Boy Extra-ordinarily … and me, the fat, dumb loser –’

‘Nick! That will be enough. It’s bad enough you say these things about yourself, but you’re also dissing me.’

Nick’s jaw went slack and he stared at D, lower lip trembling. ‘I – dissing you?’

‘Well, baby, it doesn’t exactly say much for my brains if I had decided to spend my life with the person you just described.’

Nick sniffled, and D hugged him, stroking his back tenderly. ‘You are the best and smartest – and sexiest – man in the world, and you are going to do just fine. Okay?’

Nick tightened his grip on Howie, and nodded, too choked up to speak.

That first meeting in which Nick and Lance – and James was very much in his public persona of ‘Lance’ for these business dealings – the first meeting in which Lance and Nick found themselves negotiating with outsiders, set the pattern for all that followed. Lance, who was fundamentally a frustrated strategist worthy to rank with Stonewall Jackson, Bedford Forrest, and Georgie Patton, established from the outset a tactical posture that kept the Other Team off-balance. He had insisted on getting the fullest possible intelligence on the backgrounds of those they were to deal with, and had chosen a persona and attitude to fluster them. The first day’s meeting was with venture capitalists who might – might – be prepared to invest in the start-up: experienced VC privateers, used to dealing with entertainment industry types. The Lance who appeared for the meeting was not Lance of ’N Sync: it was Nick who was there dressed and positioned as if for the red carpet at the Grammys: nor yet was it the Mississippi good ol’ boy who showed up. The VC types might have been prepared for a Lance Bass who was trying to pull the old Country Boy shtick, or for yet another Mr Hollywood. Lance gave them neither.

In fact, as Nick – with more intelligence than he gave himself credit for – had noticed often of late, ‘Hollywood’ Lance had been increasingly retired from service, though Lance could still don that mask at need, and a new Lance, one for whom the VC managers were neither forewarned nor prepared, was on tap. A starched, buttoned-down, very very preppy Lance. A yachting, horse-breeding, aristocratic Lance, who would doubtless call Nick’s power-boats ‘stinkpots’ with all the weary disdain of an America’s Cup captain. A tassel-loafers-with-no-socks, pinpoint Oxford, Brooks Brothers blazer, patchwork madras trousers Lance.

Nick felt like a complete tool in his pop-star Anna Sui threads.

But Lance’s face lit up when he came in and found Nick waiting in his office, unwilling to go to the conference room without Lance. He hugged Nick, shocking him immeasurably, and pulled back to beam at him.

‘Perfect. Just the contrast I wanted,’ Lance said. ‘D done good,’ he grinned.

‘He – huh?’

Lance grinned, that sharky, wolfish business tycoon grin that unnerved people. ‘I knew D would read his email. I wasn’t sure about you,’ he said, winking to take any sting out of the comment. ‘Here on out, we’ll communicate directly, though, so we can always do it this way, catching the other side from both sides.’ Even as he was speaking, Nick noticed, Lance’s accent was changing, transforming itself into solid business American with just a hint of a more aristocratic Southern drawl than Lance’s usual – if private – country patterns.

Lance looked at him seriously and with brotherly affection. ‘I know this is new to you, but you’ll learn the ropes in a heartbeat. Until then, feel free to follow my lead, but don’t be afraid to take the reins when you see fit, either. Now. Let’s go get ’em, tiger.’

Josh had made a conscientious effort to work and not to worry. That resolution lasted about an hour and a half. Half an hour after he gave up on trying to fool himself, he found himself at D’s and Nicky’s front door, with a peace-offering, or host gift, or outright bribe of breakfast biscuits from Hardee’s and doughnuts from – no one dared buy elsewhere, what with James’s franchise deal, even if it had meant a detour to Winter Park – doughnuts from Krispy Kreme.

D, apparently, had been just as nervous, pacing restlessly and brewing coffee so strong it would have stunned half of San Juan. ‘I know,’ he’d said, ‘I know. My abuelito couldn’t have faced coffee that strong.’ Between biscuits, glazed sugar-bombs, and that coffee, he and Josh were wired in the extreme.

‘This has got to work,’ Josh muttered for the twentieth time.

‘I know.’

‘He’s been screwed over so many times, no fault of his, and it’s just not fair. He hates being made a fool of, being made to look foolish or to have the rug pulled out from under him or like he’s jumped the gun or – yes.’

‘Nicky threw up half the night, he’s so scared people will think he’s stupid.’

‘He’s not.’

‘I know. And James – he’s … genius, ’mano. People won’t see, they won’t look –’

‘I know.’

‘You see our concern.’

‘It’s a straw man,’ Lance said, a brow raised as if surprised that the Suit across the table could think he’d be taken in by so transparent a ruse.

‘The exposure –’

‘The scenario you’ve … conjured … up, Blaine, could occur only if we used a revenue model crafted by Ken Lay and published by the Leavenworth Press. We’re not ImCon or Global Crossing, gentlemen.’

Blaine the Suit turned to Nick, with a faint sneer. ‘And your view, Mr Carter? Would you like me to go over the numbers again?’

Lance snicked the cap back onto his Mont Blanc, the sound snapping attention back to him. ‘Nick may have a perverse preference for powered craft over honest sail, Blaine, but the man is capable of doing celestial navigation calculations in his head, in open ocean. I think he and I are equally and wearisomely familiar with the projections by now. Nick is not here only because of his superior, unmatched familiarity with our target demographic, and the suggestion that he’s incapable of doing simple math is chickenshit even by the standards you people have so far displayed.’

Blaine the Suit turned a bright crimson, and another VC Suit snapped, ‘But he can’t speak for himself?’

Nick forced himself to remain as icily cool as Lance was. ‘I thought Lance would be more patient with the suggestion,’ he said. His tone was falsely sweet. ‘And certainly more polite than I might have been.’

An older Suit tried to intervene. ‘Now, now, we didn’t mean to suggest –’

‘Then I suggest,’ Nick said, coolly, ‘you think first, then speak.’

‘There is a great deal of money on the table here. I’d hate to see it left there without benefiting either side,’ a Suit said warningly. ‘Our goal is, after all, a win-win situation.’

‘Mine isn’t,’ said Nick, with more calmness than he felt. ‘Mine is to m- maximize the benefit to this company and its, um, shareholders. My duty is to them, not to management buzzwords. I mean, I have heard this sort of line before. Anyone here ever hear of Lou Pearlman?’

Nick could feel Lance, next to him, radiating pride and confidence. In him. Wow.

‘We’ll call you,’ Lance said dismissively. ‘If you’ll excuse us for now, I believe we have some merchant bankers due next.’

Herbal tea hadn’t helped much. Josh and D had run out of ways to reiterate their worries, and just sprawled on the couch, taking comfort from the other’s being there, Josh absently running his hands through Howie’s hair. It seemed to soothe both of them a little.

There were no merchant bankers panting in the anteroom. Nick, who was swiftly taking the measure of Lance as a business partner, had not really expected there would be.

‘I am so glad to have you in on this,’ Lance said, as they wound down in Lance’s office. ‘You are a freaking natural, man.’ Nick just beamed. He could almost kiss Lance for that – and despite their slightly unnerving history, he didn’t think it would be or cause a problem.

‘How … how long, y’know, before –’

‘They’ll be crawling – crawling – back within a day,’ Lance said confidently.

‘I wonder what D and Sashay are doing,’ Nick blurted out.

Lance grinned. ‘Well, either Josh is at y’all’s or D’s at our place, and they are sitting there, trying to comfort each other, worrying themselves grey.’

Nick sat up. ‘If your boyfriend is trying to mack on Howie –’

‘My husband, Nick, is no more gonna put the moves on Sweetness than D would hit on him.’

Nick blushed.

‘Possessive much?’

‘I … he. Well.’

‘Chill, handsome. Only thing he cares about is you. And proud as he’s going to be of how well you’re doing, well, you don’t get some tonight you’re not the man I think you are.’

Nick gaped at him, then giggled. ‘Power as an aphro-, arpo -, whatsitsname, huh?’

‘You got it, stud. I’m done for the day. Let’s book, hey?’

‘Deal. James?’

‘Yep?’

‘Thank you. For. Well. Thanks.’

‘Any time – partner. Now let’s boog, before they give us more work to do.’

‘Man, much as that took out of me, it seems we’ve been here all day. But it’s way early, still.’

Lance snorted. ‘Leaving the building doesn’t mean we’re done. Just like your racing, you’re always going to have this working in the back of your brain, Nick, from now on.’ He softly sang a line from a beach music tune. ‘Twenty-four seven, no time for no rest: you’re the boss, you’re the best….’

‘Shit,’ Nick smiled.

‘I know. Hey, pick D up some cologne while we’re here. Ice, we’re calling it. And Nick?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Do business-casual tomorrow. I’ll be in boots. We have damnyankees coming in –’

‘Hey!’

‘– and I intend to country-boy the unsuspecting bastards.’

The next morning, after James and Nick had left for the office, D called Josh.

‘I heard that groan, Chasez.’

‘Howie.’

‘I’m a little sore, too. I like it when our boys have a good day and decide to pay it forward.’

‘TMI, dude. TMI.’

‘Yeah, tell me you didn’t like having Mr Executive Bossman get all dominant.’

‘And you probably took dictation.’

D giggled. ‘How’s your bottom line?’

‘Not as maximized as your assets.’

‘You’re the insider.’

That broke Josh.

‘Seriously, though, dude,’ he finally managed. ‘Thanks. For worrying with me yesterday, and for getting them both to do this.’

‘No problem, vato. I think we’re both gonna like our return on investment.’

They had to hang up, then: there was no way they could finish. They were still laughing when they met for lunch. ‘We are such company wives,’ Josh snickered. It became a running gag.

As the first month passed, and with it the most feverish of last-minute, pre-launch meetings and projects, Nick found himself respecting Lance more every day. The odd thing was, it only reinforced his commitment to D, and actually diminished any lingering temptations he might have had towards Lance. Odder still, he admitted to D when they talked it over, he was beginning to respect himself more at the same time, even though his skills in the management side of things looked pretty puny by comparison to Lance’s.

D simply smiled, that knowing, Buddha-under-the-bo-tree smile that on any other face would have been terminally annoying.

Nick shook his head, like a pitcher shaking off a catcher’s signal – which, when he incautiously mentioned the simile to Lance, later, being rather proud of it, caused first Lance, and then Nick himself, when Lance wheezed out, ‘You? P-pitching?,’ and Nick realized what he’d said, to collapse in laughter, given who was the pitcher and who was the catcher in Nick’s and D’s relationship.

‘Okay,’ Nick said, for now. ‘You want me to figure it out on my own. I can deal. Fine. But. I know it’s been crazy – twenty-four seven, no time for no rest. That should slow down soon. But. We haven’t had the time we wanted to have. Had. Been having. Whatever. You okay with this?’

‘Oh, baby, of course I am. Quantity is nice, sure, but with you it’s all quality time. I’m fine with this – I am after all the one who pushed you into it.’

‘Yeah. And thanks, by the way. You were right. It has been good for me.’

‘Verdad,’ D said, tipping his head a little so Nick could bury his hands in D’s hair.

‘You’re not … bored or nothin’?’

‘Unh-unh. What, you think I’ll get bored and go cruising for college boys?’

Nick actually laughed. He knew he had insecurities, but he also knew that Howie was the one person in his life he could trust absolutely.

‘I’m getting a lot of work done, amante. Real estate … Foundation work … some writing….’

‘Writing?’

‘Yes, mi querido. I have written before, you know. For this little group called Backstreet – you may possibly have heard of them?’

‘Nutcase. Whatcha writing, though, and why haven’t I heard about this?’

‘It’s a collaboration.’

‘With?’

‘Ah, mi precioso, with whom do you think? What, you thought all these lunches with C were our Wives’s Auxiliary meetings?’

Nick snickered, then turned serious. ‘Um. How is he? Really.’

‘C? Fine. Why?’

Nick was silent. D, uncharacteristically – yet very much in character, given how he cared for their friends – pushed it.

‘Nicky? Mi adorado, what are you not telling me?’

‘I think,’ James said sleepily, as Josh sprawled, sated, across him, ‘I think I’ve managed to worry Nicky?’

‘Huh?’ Josh was more perplexed than alarmed.

James smiled, stroking the sweat-dampened tendrils of Josh’s wild mane. ‘Oh, I’m sure D will tackle you about it at the next lunch you two sneak off to behind our backs.’

Josh pinched James’s right nipple. ‘As if. You know damned well what D and I are doing.’ Josh shot James an uneasy glance. ‘Um – don’t you?’

‘Of course, sugarpie. I trust you better than I trust myself. Though I’ll tell you right now, if I wake up one morning to a Spanish version of Digital Getdown….’

‘Asshole. I’ll have you know we’re working on something entirely different. Vaquero del Espacio.’

James just looked at him. ‘Would you rather I buried the two of you at sea – because trust me, Nicky would help – or just hid your bodies in the Everglades for the gators?’

Josh kissed him. ‘My body is at your disposal.’

‘I prefer it alive. So – please, do not do a salsa version of Los Dos de Nosotros, promise me.’

‘I promise. On one condition. You stop ducking the subject. What have you done to worry poor little Hamho- uh, Nicky?’

‘You know I play the odds with who we’re meeting? I give them the Lance they’re least expecting?’

‘I should know. You’ve done it since Fat Lou’s day.’

‘Well, I told Nick we all have different strengths and different styles. And Josh, he really is getting good at this.’

‘Good.’

‘Anyway. So. I told him that he didn’t need to resort to such tricks. It was enough for him to be Just Nicky. Well, that part was okay. But he said I seemed to have a “Lance” for every occasion, and I said, well, but all of them are equally fake, there isn’t a real Lance.’

‘Hoo boy.’

‘He got all quiet, and then we had to go to meetings before I could spell it out for him, and, well.’

‘He got all Junior Chris on us and psychoanalytical?’

‘Well, I’m betting he’s fixing to.’

Josh snuggled in closer, and yawned. ‘If it comes up, we’ll deal. But I bet D takes care of it first.’

The next day, D and Josh met at the studio at 10:00 AM. Neither had to say a word to bring the topic up.

‘James all worried he’s confused Nicky?’

‘I told him you’d get Nick straightened out –’

‘Too late for that, thank God. I don’t sleep with straight guys. But I unsorted his confusion. On that topic, at least.’

‘He’s not at the office this minute going all Freudian on James’s cute ass?’

‘I simply reminded him that he’s Nick everywhere, in varying degrees, but James is James, he just plays Lance on TV.’

‘And the penny dropped?’

‘Uh-huh,’ D said, nodding eagerly and acting childish. ‘And I got a gumball and a prize, mommy!’

Josh collapsed in his patented boneless laughing fit, limbs flailing.

Just when they’d gotten hold of themselves, D innocently started them off again: ‘Anyway. To be serious. I was thinking, maybe we could do a merengue version of –’

Josh, mouth quivering with suppressed hilarity, cut him off, telling him just what James had said about that sort of thing the night before. D ran with it.

‘You think Justin can get used to saying “novia” for “girlfriend”?’

‘Stop,’ Josh begged, sides heaving.

‘And let’s see … “shorty” had you encima contra de la pared …. Hey, at least our mamas will like it – my mama after all is la aficionada perfecta….’

‘Stop it, D, please….’

‘Why, is it affecting la forma de su corazón?’

They didn’t get a lot of work done that day, but they had a great time not doing it.

A month later, it was Nick and Lance, though, who had to be sent out of the room when Josh got both bands together to look at a new arrangement for a charity gig. No one was averse to doing the occasional cover. But Brian and Joey, in particular, never did quite figure out why James and Nicky had had to leave and compose themselves when Josh handed out the parts for a five-part, D-and-C-arranged, Caribbean-tinged, Parrot-headed version of Taking Care of Business.

Wisely, no one explained it to them, either.

END