"Lance! Hurry up! It's about to start!" Joey called from his position on the couch. Lance's muffled voice came from the kitchen.
"I'm coming, I'm coming." He walked out into the room and stood next to the chair where JC sat, taking a drink of the water he held in his hand. "It is not, Joe, it's still on commercial.
"Yeah, he gets all excited every time a commercial ends." JC chuckled as Lance sat down next to Joey, plopping his feet down in his lap. Joey began rubbing them gently. "Ugh, must we do that when I am in the room?" Joey looked up and grinned.
"What? He likes it. You know you want me to give you a foot rub too, admit it." JC began laughing.
"Oh, yeah, come here Joe, let me have it. Actually," he said, shifting and tucking one leg under the other, "I could use one after all the rehearsals." Lance smiled and closed his eyes.
"No way, C, I'm first." He opened his eyes and glanced at the TV, where there was still a commercial for some miracle flat hose. "I'll be glad when we start this tour though...it's gonna be a good one." Joey nodded, continuing to massage the bottom of Lance's feet.
"It is." He looked up. "Guys! It really is starting now." They all turned their attention to the program beginning.
Lance had been surprised when their PR executive approached him. She had asked him if he would be willing to do an interview about getting over his narcolepsy, getting it under control in spite of the busy life on tour he led. She felt it would be wonderful publicity for the group and their upcoming tour. Automatically, Lance told her he would get back to her and called Joey. He felt nervous, and trapped into the interview. What if someone knew about the two of them, what if they got outed on national television? It would be the end of them, the end of their careers. But Joey had reassured him, telling him he was paranoid and that they were always careful, who would know? And the other guys had told him to go for it, that it would be good. So he agreed. He sat down with John Stossel in a brightly colored room and smiled as he talked of how life was on tour with narcolepsy, how he dealt with it, were the other guys in the group supportive? He had almost faltered on that question, especially when John had leaned forward a little before mentioning, "And on top of all this, you also filmed a movie with your fellow band mate Joey Fatone...did he help you any during the filming?" Lance had swallowed and hesitated for a mere second before smoothly answering, "Yes, Joey of all the guys was there for me when I needed help." And smiled a real smile. They watched that part now, Joey squeezing Lances leg comfortably when he answered. John Stossel had moved on after that, and Lance considered the interview successful. He had talked about the new tour, hyped it up a bit, while clearing up any rumors about his "disease" that had been quietly whispered about the bottom corners of tabloids for months.
It wasn't a long interview, and was done within 15 minutes. JC stood, stretching and smiling.
"Good job, Lance...you were very...composed." Lance smiled up at him.
"Thanks, C...and thanks for coming to watch it with us."
"Hey...No problem...but I should get going, I need as much rest as I can get before we start this tour." Joey smiled and stood, walking JC to the door as Lance slumped against the back of the couch, relieved that the interview had aired, that it was over. He heard the door close and Joey walked back into the room, grinning at Lance sprawled out on the couch.
"You look tired." Lance shook his head and yawned in spite of himself.
"No...well...ok, I am...but...what did you think about the interview?" Joey leaned forward and kissed Lance on the forehead before Lance felt strong arms pull him up.
"I am very proud of you, Lance...the interview was great. But I am putting you to bed." Lance didn't protest when Joey put a warm hand on the small of his back and led him into the bedroom. Or when he set him down on the bed and pulled off his khakis, leaving him in his t-shirt and boxers. Lance just let him, and sighed contentedly when he was snuggled beneath the blankets, Joey beside him, humming softly and smoothing the soft dark blond hair off of his forehead.
"Mmm.... I love it when you sing to me." Joey stopped his wordless song for a moment and smiled, running one finger down the side of Lance's face, feeling the slight stubble.
"You do?" Lance nodded and closed his eyes as he heard the soft hum begin again, a rumble deep within his broad chest.
"I feel safe."
"You are." Lance inhaled deeply and felt light-headed when he became consumed by the scent of Joey. It was more than cologne, it was just...him. Lance smelled it all the time, and sometimes he swore he could hear Joey singing, singing in the back of his mind, humming in his heart.
"I..."
"What, Lance?" He was whispering. Lance couldn't say it all of a sudden.
"I...I'm glad that you're proud of me." He hoped that Joey would understand.
"I am glad that you like it when I sing..." He did.
And they fell asleep.
Joey sat alone in his hotel room, staring at the piece of paper in front of him. Frustrated, he would write something hurriedly, then immediately scribble it out. Never. He would never get finished.
He was working on an anniversary present for Lance. It was going to be eight months soon, and he wanted to do something special. He had quickly realized that other than his charm, he had no abilities. Not one creative bone in his body. Could he bake? No. Make something? Not at all. But he didn't want to just buy something. He finally got what he thought was the perfect idea, but now...he wasn't so sure. He stared at the scribbles some more, trying to piece together something...anything.
A knock at the door startled him back to reality. He quickly hid what he was working on and walked to the door. Hopefully it wasn't Lance. He really needed to work, and Lance was distraction number one in his book. He unlocked the door and to much relief, found JC standing on the other side.
"C! Thank goodness its you." JC smiled and walked in.
"Expecting someone else, Joe?" He sat in a chair and regarded him evenly. Joey plopped down on the bed and shook his head ruefully.
"I thought it might have been Lance...I was working on that thing I told you about." JC was the only one who knew what he was doing; He had actually helped him come up with the idea. He grinned now, hearing that Joey was working on it.
"How's it coming? Can I see what you have so far?" Joey pulled out the pieces of paper and silently handed it to his friend. JC looked at it closely, his brow furrowing and his lips moving as he read silently.
"It sucks JC, it sucks." JC looked up at him and shook his head.
"It doesn't...suck, Joey, you just really haven't started it much..." Joey sighed and grabbed the papers away from JC and stared at them...again.
"I know, I've tried...I don't know how you do it, C..."
"You've done it too, you know." Joey snorted.
"Yeah, the great collaboration that was 'Giddy Up'." JC laughed.
"Hey-it was a fun song."
"Yeah, but I don't want to write Lance a fun song, I want to write him something that will make him...I don't know." He became quiet, staring at the pattern of the bedspread. JC looked at him closely.
"Are you ok, Joe?" Joey looked up, then down again quickly.
"I'm fine..."
"You don't seem fine."
"Its just..." JC got up and sat next to Joey on the bed, patting his leg as he sat down.
"What is it? Problems with Lance?" Joey ran his hand through his unruly hair and sighed.
"Not really problems...I don't think..."
"You don't think?"
"JC, you know how much Lance has meant to me, right?' JC nodded his agreement. "Well, since the beginning, it's always been great...except...sometimes I don't think that he feels the same way." JC looked puzzled for a moment.
"Really? I didn't think..." Joey cut him off.
"Its not a big deal...just little things."
"Like what?" Joey was quiet for a few moments.
"JC, he's never said it first."
"Said what? Said 'I love you'?" Joey nodded.
"Yeah, I mean, it seems like such a stupid thing to be thinking about, but...I only realized it the other day. He's said it, but usually just as an echo of my own feelings. Never even in...in the heat of the moment-" He broke off suddenly, embarrassed, but JC urged him on.
"Its ok, Joe."
"Never even then. Sometimes-" His face took on a far away quality. "Sometimes I think that he's about to say it, and I can just feel it, and I wait...but it never comes. He never says it. Something stops him, every time. Am I being stupid about this?" JC thought for a moment as he rubbed Joey's back comfortingly.
"No, no Joe, I don't think that you are being stupid. Maybe Lance is just afraid of what he feels, maybe he just loves you too much to say...you know?" Joey nodded slightly, his shoulders slumped.
"Maybe...but I don't think that he could ever love me as much as I love him...I want him to feel that."
"I think he does, Joe, I think he does."
"Thanks C." The two embraced for a moment before standing up.
"I should let you get back to your writing...you have a lot of work to do."
"Yeah...I do."
"It'll be ok, Joe."
"The song or Lance?" JC stopped for a second and smiled.
"Both, equally."
"I'm glad one of us thinks that."
"Joey..." The tone was that of frustration.
"Ok, ok JC, I'm going to work now...and try to do something right for once."
"Joey, if you think you never do anything right..."
"Yeah?" A sigh.
"Never mind...do you want some unsolicited advice?"
"Always." JC looked at his friend for a moment. His hair was a mess, he was wearing an ugly T-shirt, and pieces of wrinkled paper and pens were everywhere. Then he noticed a picture of Lance, laughing, half peeking out from underneath one of the pages. He had to blink quickly to stop the emotion he felt. He cleared his throat and spoke.
"Don't worry about what you write making sense to anyone else...you know who you are writing it for, and you are the only one who knows how you feel. Just...write what you feel, when you feel it." Joey coughed and nodded.
"I can do that."
"Good...I'll be in my room if you need anything...talk to you later Joe."
"Later."
The door closed behind JC with a soft thud and Joey turned back to his project, his thoughts. Lance. He pulled the picture out from underneath the mess on his bed and looked at it. It was his favorite picture of him; he had taken it with his digital camera a few months ago. Lance was wearing his favorite orange shirt, sitting in Joey's backyard. Joey smiled as he remembered. He had done something stupid again, and Lance was laughing at him. But his laugh didn't have the harsh edge Chris or Justin's did when he did something stupid. Lance had once told him that he had an "artful clumsiness" that made him crack up.
Lance hated this picture of himself; he always tried to tear it up when he would find it in Joey's suitcase. He said his Adams apple looked like it was trying to eat his neck and his eyes looked funny, too open. Joey loved it. He looked so happy. And Joey knew for a fact that in this picture, he was the one doing it. Making him happy. He looked perfect to Joey.
He was so glad that he could work on this in private, that he and Lance still kept separate rooms so that no excuses had to be made. That didn't stop them from cuddling together late at night, creeping into each others arms and sighing with contentment as their warm bodies met in the center of the bed. Joey smiled thinking of the night before when he had surprised Lance, sneaking up and sliding beneath the covers, tickling his sides until he was awake, growling slightly for the interruption of his sleep. Thinking of his sleepy smile made him wonder what he was doing now.
"Maybe if I see him, I'll get inspired to write something," he thought aloud, getting up and walking to the door. He walked down the hall toward Lance's room, smiling when he suddenly saw something that made him freeze and wiped the smile off his face, leaving his world spinning. Outside Lance's room. It was her. SHE was in the hallway.
Becca.
She was putting something in her bag; it took her a second before she looked up and saw Joey, staring at her in the hallway.
"Hey, Joey! Long time, huh?" She walked toward him as he backed up a few steps, his eyes narrowing.
"Becca, what are you doing here?" She stopped and looked at him for a moment.
"Seeing Lance, of course...why else would I be here?"
"Why else?" he echoed, continuing in a strained tone. "What did you need to see Lance for?" She shook her head in confusion, putting her hands on her hips and tapping her foot impatiently.
"Jo-ey, what has gotten into you? I came here to talk to him!" She crossed her arms and glared at him.
"Oh, well, I didn't think that he had anything to talk to you about." Her expression turned from perplexed to angry.
"Excuse me? Joey, you know that Lance and I went out for a long time-"
"Yeah, and you dumped him a long time ago." She threw her hands up at him.
"Well, I didn't really dump him, but besides that, I may have made a mistake." Joey stared at her in astonishment.
"A mistake? What, did you come to apologize?" She swung her hair over her shoulder.
"Something like that." Joey blinked rapidly. Was she saying what he thought she was?
"What, you want to get...get back together with him?" She was nodding as he spoke.
"Who says we aren't back together already?" Joey practically shouted his next question.
"What?" She began to pick invisible lint off of her dress.
"Who knows? I think that little Lance has missed me more than he told any of you guys." Joey could feel his defensive side taking over.
"I don't think so, Becca."
"Riiight. Whatever you say, Joey." She started to walk off, but he caught her by the arm and felt his voice begin to rise in his throat.
"Becca, I don't know how you can come back here and act as if nothing has happened! You cheated on him, you left him right when he was diagnosed with Narcolepsy, you left, you never called, never cared about how he was doing, you made him feel like shit...and you left us to pick up the pieces! You are the last person who should be coming back into his life again!" She dropped her bag to the floor, her hands resting on her hips again. She shouted back in his face as she let him have it.
"And what business do you have yelling at me?!? I heard that you and Kelly broke up...and I know how you can be with the ladies, so it doesn't take a detective to figure out what happened there." He blew up.
"Becca, you of ALL people should not presume to know anything about relationships. You were a complete bitch to Lance, so why don't you just admit that and move on?" That was all it took. Within a second, she was on him, kicking and hitting him as hard as she could. Joey was saved when they heard a door open and saw Lance standing there, staring in horror at the fight. They all stared at each other for a moment, then Becca broke the silence.
"Lance, hey...we were just talking about you." She picked up her belongings and tossed her hair over her shoulder. Joey just stood there, seething. She pecked Lance on the cheek and walked away, calling over her shoulder as she left, "See you soon!"
Joey and Lance both stared at her as she left, only looking at each other when the elevator doors closed with a ping. Lance broke the silence, fidgeting under Joey's gaze.
"We should talk."
"We should." He never stopped looking at Lance, even as he followed him into the hotel room...