"That little spot just over the hipbone and under the curve of the stomach." Lance rolled over and stared at the ceiling.

"Unh, yes. And hands. I'm a sucker for good hands." Chris sat up just long enough to take another sip of his beer, then slumped bonelessly back down against the pillows.

"The nape of the neck." Lance gazed off into the distance, and a little smile rounded his lips. "Just where it turns into shoulder."

"Perfect place to sink your teeth into," Chris agreed.

Lance sighed, deeply, a sound of satisfaction. "Tell me again why we've never hooked up?"

"'Cause I ain't putting up with your prima donna ways, my friend."

"I think," Lance said, with utmost drunken dignity, "that you may have confused me with Justin."

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