Thirteen

“I have an idea,” Justin said, throwing an arm around Lance's shoulders. “Let's go over and ask those girls to dance.” He threw a dazzling smile at the girls in question, and they giggled, burying their faces in each other's shoulders.

“Weren't they in the front row?” Joey asked. “I remember that one in the pink shirt.”

“How could you help it?” JC commented. “She was only flashing you every three seconds.”

“Yeah,” Joey said, smiling blissfully. JC sighed and looked at Lance. Lance smiled kindly and squeezed JC's knee under the table. No matter what had happened or what Joey said to him, JC was still head over heels in love with him, and it would take a long time for JC to finally get over it. Lance was the only person JC would talk about it with.

“C'mon, Lance,” Justin whined, practically falling into Lance's lap. Lance sighed. He had never seen Justin this drunk before, and he didn't like it. It was their last night in Europe, and Chris had sweet-talked Lynn into allowing Justin to come out with them. JC had sweet-talked the man at the door into letting Justin in, and Justin had sweet-talked anyone he could into buying him drinks. “That blond has been watching you ALL night.”

“I don't really care, Justin,” Lance said carefully. He only prayed that Justin wouldn't say anything revealing in front of Joey and Chris.

“I want a good time, dammit,” Justin said, pounding his fist on the table. “You're so boring, Lance. Why do I waste time with you?”

Lance knew it was the alcohol talking. He knew Justin didn't feel that way. Even without everything that happened in the bedroom, he and Justin were close. But it still hurt enough that Lance pulled away and shivered, the pain darting into his heart. “I think it's the other way around, Justin,” JC snapped, glaring at his youngest brother. “Lance obviously wastes time with YOU.”

“I'll go over there, Justin,” Joey volunteered. “Hell, why not.”

“Yay!” Justin said happily. He managed to crawl out of the booth, and Joey helped him across the dance floor to the group of girls.

“Where's Joey and Justin?” Chris asked, coming back to the table with another round of drinks.

“Over there.” JC waved in the general direction of the dance floor. “Getting some, at least in their intoxicated minds.”

“You think maybe Justin's had too much to drink?” Chris asked, not quite sober himself. Lance snorted and said nothing.

“There are three girls over there, Chris,” JC said suddenly. “Don't let Joey walk outta here with two.”

“Yeah! Anyway!” Chris stood up, straightened his shirt, and made a beeline for the back of Joey's head.

“You hating this as much as I am right now?” JC asked Lance. They were the most sober of the group, though the alcohol had loosened them both up enough to have this conversation in a public place.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Lance said, stirring his drink. He hoped the ice would melt soon and water it down. He hated to turn it down, since Chris had bought it with his meager pocket change.

“I know about you and Justin, Lance,” JC said.

“Yeah. We screw around. I blew him for his birthday. So what?”

JC blinked for a second, then recovered from this new information. “It's more than that. I know it is.”

“For one of us,” Lance finally admitted.

“Lance, I know that if Joey marched over here right now, and asked to go to bed with me, I'd let him,” JC said quietly, and Lance stared at him. “I'd let him in a heartbeat, and then tomorrow he'd wake up and want things to be the same. I understand, okay?”

“You just weren't stupid enough to let things get started,” Lance grumbled.

“I tried more than once,” JC confided. “It's so hard.”

Lance looked at him and sighed. He briefly laid his head against JC's bony shoulder, then took a gulp of his drink. 

“But Joey has girls with him!” Justin whined. “I wanted girls to come back with ME.”

“You can't, J,” Chris said, stumbling under Justin's weight. “Your mom would freak.”

“Mebbe she'd be proud of me,” Justin said. “Mebbe she'd see I'm no baby.”

“No one thinks you're a baby, Justin,” JC said. He and Lance followed a few steps behind Justin and Chris, allowing Chris to take some responsibility for Justin for once.

“You all do. All the time. I'm always stuck back in the room with Lance. Boring Lance. This sucks.” Justin stopped walking and leaned on Chris. “I don't wanna be stuck back with Lance anymore.”

“Well, once we're home, you have to be, Justin. Even Lance can't drink publicly at home,” JC pointed out.

“Can someone help me here?” Chris asked over his shoulder.

“No,” Lance snapped. He turned to JC, who saw the hurt in his eyes. “Can I room with you?”

“No,” Chris interrupted. “I'm rooming with C because Joey the Whore has girls in the room.”

“Room with Justin. I need a good night's sleep.” Lance grabbed JC's keycard and disappeared into the room before Chris could protest.

“Good riddance,” Justin said, smiling drunkenly. “Who needs him, anyway?”

“Good night, you guys,” JC said, thankful that Lance hadn't heard that. 

Lance pulled out the blanket from the overhead compartment and snuggled down against the window, pulling the shade. He was tired and not feeling very well. He had no energy, and JC kicked in his sleep, causing Lance to wake often during the night. He didn't care all that much, though, because JC hadn't said anything. He had given Lance a sweet kiss on the forehead, a comforting hug, and then he had left him alone without trying to give advice.

“Can I sit next to the window?” Justin asked.

Lance glared up at him. “No. I'm already here.”

“Please, Lance? I need to lay my head down against something.” Justin held his head and tried not to look ill as his mother passed by.

“I have a window back here, baby,” Lynn said.

“No. He can have this one.” Lance stood and let Justin slip past him. Justin smiled gratefully.

“You can lean against me.”

“Whatever.” Lance flounced into his seat and fastened his seatbelt as Lynn moved on back to her seat.

“What's wrong with you?” Justin asked.

“Nothing,” Lance snapped. “Sleep if you're gonna sleep, or give me the damn window.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” Justin snapped his own seatbelt. Lance just hoped Justin would keep quiet so he could fall asleep. Flying was a lot nicer when you slept through it.

“You acted like a real dick last night, Justin,” JC said, poking his head up from the row behind them. “Don't drink like that until you can handle it. Or, if you do, leave us out of it.”

“Huh?” Justin undid his seatbelt and knelt, turning to look at JC.

“You said a lot of nasty things about Lance, insulted him right to his face. Called him boring and a waste of your time.” JC leaned front and smacked Justin in the back of the head. “Most people tell the truth when they're drunk, Justin. Think about that.” JC sat back down.

“Jayce,” Lance groaned, holding his head and closing his eyes.

Justin slowly sat down, staring at Lance in horror. “Did…did I say that?”

“Go to sleep,” Lance said.

“Lance,” Justin persisted.

“YES.” Lance buried himself in his blanket. “Okay?”

Justin sat back down, got buckled in, and got comfortable against the window. He then reached under Lance's blanket for Lance's arm and pulled him until he was laying against Justin's side. Justin fumbled under the blanket and found Lance's hand. He intertwined his fingers with Lance's and looked at Lance out of the corner of his eye. “I am really, really sorry, Lance. I didn't mean it,” Justin promised, and Lance wasn't surprised to see a tear in Justin's eye. Justin was one of the most kind-hearted people Lance knew, and Lance knew that Justin felt horrible for treating him that way.

“It's okay,” Lance sighed, hoping Justin would drop it.

“No. It's not. But I didn't mean it.” Justin pulled Lance's hand onto his thigh and continued to hold it as he dropped off.

Fourteen