Now. I knew this was going to become a whole new level of obsession. Oh well. (You know, maybe the reason Shazam sleeps all day isn't just nights of hot monkey sex with Poofu; maybe he's up 'til all hours writing pseudonymous slash....) But I can never resist a Challenge.... Again, this is a long-ago list challenge Bohemia, among others, also tried on for size: her version is at Rapture: Happy New Year.

'Hon?'

'Mmm?'

'Why is there a charge on my Corporate Amex for a new cappucino maker?'

Josh fidgeted before he answered his love. 'Uh, well ... Joey ... kinda, well, like broke the old one.'

James Lance Bass just looked at his lifemate.

'It was while you were at the Shitkicker Awards,' Josh said.

'JC –'

Whoops. That use of his nickname was not a good sign.

'Sorry, James.'

'Okay.'

'But, anyhow, uh....'

'Josh. Sweetie. How in the hell did the Fat One break – break – the cappucino machine? Jesus H. Christ, he must be the only Italian in the world who could break a cappufrickincino machine! Every other living Fatone knows how to use one – even Steve!'

'James! Lansten!' That got Bass's attention.

'Oh, Gawd, Josh, I'm sorry ... I'm just so damn uptight right now.... C'mere.'

They wrapped each other in fierce hug, then relaxed into a cuddle, Josh soothing his man with a gentle neck massage.

When Josh spoke again, his voice was equally soothing, and freer of his own self-doubts.

'You know how Joe came over to, well, keep me company.'

'Mmmhm.'

'And Friday night, he, uh, brought this girl over for dinner –'

'Which one?'

'Does it matter?'

'Actually –' they both grinned at the reference to Joey's infamous "actually" – 'it doesn't. I hope she ain't a stalker or a tattler, is all.'

'Oh. Well, officially, I was house-sitting for you while you were away – honey, you're tensing up again.'

'You know I purely hate this bullshit about our not being together, Josh.'

'Almost as much as I do. But it answers your question, right?'

James nodded against Josh's strong, soothing hands, rotating his aching neck.

' 'Kay. Anyway, I come back downstairs about three in the morning – of course she stayed, and stayed, and, well, you know Joe –'

James grinned. 'Unfortunately, yes.'

'And she's on the counter, "nekkid as ary jay-bird," o fount of my sudden access of Mississippi sayings, wedged under the freakin' machine with Joe licking hot milk outta her navel –'

'Oh. My. Gawd.'

'Well, yeah, I kinda said that too, and they spazzed –'

'– You should talk –'

'Oh fuck off,' Josh said tenderly. 'I'm no crazier about talking about the weird things hets do than you are. Anyway, she tries to leap up, Joe swung around, and – you probably heard the crash in Nashville.'

'Joe's gonna repay us for this.'

'I know. And for the rent for one 'til the new one got here.'

'So – hon, what's mine is yours, and vice versa. But –'

'It's on your corporate card so we can write it off. You do have a home office here.'

'Oh. And here I was thinking you'd just maxed out your cards buying me gifts while I was gone.' They kissed, smiling.

'Y'know, I don't think you can max out the sort of cards we have,' Josh mused.

'We'll ask Justin. If anybody ever has, he'd be the one.'

They sat there in companionable silence for a few minutes.

'James?'

'Yeah, babe?'

'Am I too gay for you?'

Lance sat up so quickly it almost put JC on the floor.

'WHAAAAT?'

'You know. Too ... I dunno ... fem? Nelly?'

'Are you out of your cotton-pickin' mind, sugar?'

Josh studied the pattern of their Tabriz rug as he went on.

'When you leave, I have to get Joe or JuJu to stay with me or I can't function. Not alone. I'm ... clingy.'

'So'm I. So's that sweater I like you in. So what?'

'Well, it's not very manly of me is it? And you can function without me – you can go do FreeLance stuff and –'

'Joshua Scott Bass-Chasez –'

Josh looked up at that surname, eyes wide.

'Or hell, "Chasez-Bass," I don't care,' James smiled. 'You know, I know, we both know it's coming, as soon as we can. But back to our muttons here. I do not function when I'm without you. The Lance-bot does, signing contracts and giving fake smiles, but James Lance Chasez-Bass is wandering around in a sleepless daze, letting the 'bot do auto-pilot. Hell, tater, I go into a damn fugue state when you're in the freakin' studio, much less more'n ten miles down the road.'

James drew his lover closer to him and held him tight.

'If that makes me unmanly, tough shit. I don't think you're anything but one butch hottie, and I wouldn't care anysomehow. I hated androgyny, I'd have to hate myself. There's a right smart of "fem" in me, in case you're the only sumbitch on the planet ain't heard the catcalls. The voice is butch, the gestures flame; I'm not exactly a bottom boy, but the eyebrows catch a lot of sheeyit. I'm your little bundle of contradictions and you swear to me you love it. Was that true?'

'Of course it was!'

'Well, then? Sure you have your queenier moments – a certain jacket comes to mind –'

'Hey! You were wearing sequins in a flame pattern!'

'See what I mean? We're equal in this, we're equal in bed (I seem to recall you topped the wonderful achin' hell out of me, night 'fore I left), we're equal in everything except that you have looks and talent out the ass –'

'James Lance Bass – um, "Bass- Chasez" – don't you start that –'

'Why not? You think you're the only one entitled to have insecurities, love?' James grinned at him, and Josh broke down and grinned tremulously back.

'Josh, I don't know what put this in your ever-lovin', pea-pickin' haid, but it's plumb crazy. I mean, I'm the one cried all through "Rent: The Musical" –'

'Well, I like show tunes and Depeche Mode –'

'Hon, that's not all that fem. Your obsession with Lamb Chop, now, on t'other hand –'

'Watch it – "Charley Horse,"' Josh shot back in his best Lamb Chop voice, batting his lashes.

James laughed helplessly, and soon enough they were both on the floor, still in each other's arms, wheezing with the giggles.

'How in the Sam Hill'd we start talking about sex and get to talking about sock puppets anyway?'

'Damn if I know,' Josh grinned from where he lay atop his man. 'Let's talk some more sex, though,' he said, slowly humping James.

'Mmmmm,' James groaned, in a basso profundo that vibrated in Josh's chest and every fiber of his being. 'Let's not talk about it.....'

'Hey, takes two to tango,' Josh smiled, slowly and sensuously getting up and pulling James up to him.

'Only dancin' I want to do,' James panted as they edged towards the stairs leading to their bedroom, 'is between the sheets ... with my verrrry hot, verrrry manly future husband.'

'I'll lead,' Josh whispered, and picked James up in a fireman's lift as they headed for paradise.