Twenty-Seven

“Do you really have to go?” Justin said unhappily. He sat on the ground, hands behind him, propping himself up.

“I'm going to drip paint on you,” Lance warned. He was working on the front porch.

“You'd LOVE to put paint on me,” Justin flirted, and Lance rolled his eyes.

“And yes, I really have to go. I've been stretching this job out longer than I should, anyway,” Lance said, his eyes unconsciously wandering towards the road. He often found himself watching for a car that never came. It had been two weeks since his weekend with JC Chasez, and he had never seen him again.

“You could just stay here, Lancey…work here. With me. Ooh, yeah!” Justin sat up. “We could be like a team…like they could only hire us together. Wouldn't that be hot?”

“NO,” Lance said, blushing slightly.

“You don't think sex with me would be hot?” Justin said, insulted.

“Yes, I do. I mean, no, I mean, you're a jerk,” Lance snapped, and Justin laughed. “Besides, I can't DO what you do.”

“You have already,” Justin said lightly.

“That was different,” Lance mumbled.

“You could call him. I bet Joey has some sort of contact number for him.”

“I don't WANT to call him, Justin. Whatever JC Chasez and I had is over. I'm ready to move on.” Lance stopped painting and looked at Justin. “You could come with me. I'm looking to settle down somewhere. We could be roommates, you could go back to school…”

“And do what?”

“I don't know. Learn music production or something. I hate to think of you doing this forever.”

“I won't do it forever, Lancey. I'll get old, and no one will want me anymore.”

“Someone will ALWAYS want you, Justin,” Lance said, and he was sincere.

Justin got up and hugged Lance tight, surprising him. “I will really really miss you, Lancey. You're like the best friend I've ever had.” Justin laid his head on Lance's shoulder. “And you'd better keep in touch…who knows, one day I may get sick of this, and I'll come looking to take you up on your offer.”

“And my offer will always stand,” Lance said, kissing Justin's cheek. 

“So, will you have the songs ready or what?” The record exec snapped. JC glared at him, but the glare was wasted behind his sunglasses.

“I told you I would. You gave me a deadline of six months…which doesn't end for another two weeks.”

“Normally you have something to show,” Chris said gently.

“I HAVE something to show,” JC said evenly. “I just didn't feel like showing it. You will have more than enough in two weeks.” JC stood. “If you'll excuse me, I have a party to get ready for.” JC left the conference room with Chris on his heels.

“You've been acting like a real ass lately, you know?”

“They rub me the wrong way, Chris. They always want more than they originally agreed on.”

“I almost think you need another vacation!” Chris said. “You've been so miserable…”

“I am NOT miserable. I am back in my hometown, and I have been out almost every night. I'm writing well, and I never sleep alone.”

“Too much information,” Chris said, shaking his head.

“I'm sorry if I take shit out on you, Chris. I don't mean to,” JC said softly. “You're really my best friend.”

“And don't you forget it,” Chris muttered. “Have fun not sleeping alone tonight. Call me tomorrow, okay?”

“I will.” They separated at the door of the office building. As JC slipped into the backseat of the limo, he heaved a sigh. He knew he was acting miserable, because he WAS miserable. The part about not sleeping alone wasn't a lie; there was always someone beside him. What Chris didn't need to know is that JC never touched that person more than a few caresses and kisses. 

“I swear…I'll just walk and take the bus,” Lance insisted.

“Lance, I'm driving you to the bus station and that's final,” Joey snapped.

“Can I do it?” Justin popped his head into Joey's office. “Can I drive him?”

“Uh, sure, Justin, thanks,” Joey said. “Close the door, please.”

Justin closed the door and Joey went into his safe. “I'm gonna miss him,” Lance said. “He's a good guy.”

“They all are, really,” Joey said. Joey straightened up and handed Lance two large envelopes. “One of these is cash. One is traveler's checks. You sure you don't want me to keep some, send you it along the line?”

“No, I'll be okay,” Lance promised. “I already have an idea of where I'm going, so I won't be on the road for long. And it's not that I don't trust you…I just like the idea of having it.”

“It's your money,” Joey said. He handed Lance the envelopes. “We'll miss you. Keep in touch, okay?”

“I will,” Lance said, nodding. “I promise.” 

Early the next morning, Justin sat in the front seat of Joey's truck, waiting for Lance. He nervously tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Lance soon came out, waving over his shoulder.

The ride to the bus station was brief, and they didn't talk much. Justin helped Lance get his bags out of the vehicle, and waited with them as Lance bought his ticket. “The bus leaves in ten minutes…so you can go,” Lance said. “No need for you to wait.”

“Right.” Justin gave Lance a hug. “He really cares about you, Lance,” Justin said softly. “Chris told me. You could have a chance.”

Lance shook his head and smiled. “That was a dream life. This is reality. Once I'm settled, I'll write you, okay?”

“Yeah,” Justin said faintly. “Take care, Lancey.” He gave Lance another hug, then hurried back to the truck. 

Twenty-Eight